Well I certainly started this morning off in my typical “Lucy” fashion, no surprise there.

I woke up early and very sleepily put on my husband’s old high school, football sweatpants…with no drawstring. (I actually think they may be wrestling team sweatpants but, Wrestling Follies would be a stupid title.) I added a long t-shirt with a sweatshirt over that and topped it all off with a pair of giant, white, fluffy, flurry looking, boot style house shoes.
This was the outfit I chose to drive my daughter to school in. Not a problem, nobody is really going to see me, right? And anyway, I don’t actually care if anyone sees me looking like that at that time of day. It’s early and cold and that’s a great excuse as far as I’m concerned. 
Everything was going off just as planned and I dropped her off at school without a hitch. And since I don’t care about the look I’m sporting, I make the decision to stop at the busy little gas station and order myself a biscuit for the ride home. That’s when it happened. I grabbed my phone, keys, and money, up in my hands and started across the parking lot. I paused briefly to turn and lock the car doors using my key fob… and at that very moment, my pants gave way BIG time! In a split second my sweatpants dropped to my knees right then and there. I felt the cold air sweep across my butt just before I grabbed them as quick as I could  wrangle them with my full hands and pulled them up. I immediately looked around quite frantic at all the other cars in the parking lot and didn’t see anyone else as I scanned quickly. However, it’s also very possible that I just blocked them out due to humiliation, or that my mind automatically did so in order to protect my heart from failing. I can still hear that little scream I squeaked out.

I was really hoping that nobody in the store saw what happened, and given that there was nothing in the world that I could do about it now-and I wanted that biscuit more than I didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment, I waltzed right into that station, laid everything I had in my hands up on the counter, adjusted my clothes the best way I knew how and told the lady at the register with all the seriousness I could muster, “my pants just fell down in the parking lot. I sure hope nobody saw that.” I completely owned it. I had no other choice.
She kind of laughed but mostly looked confused. And then I picked up my belongings and walked to the back of that station up to the grill and ordered my biscuit like a boss!
I pranced back up to the register and paid the cashier. I thanked the lady and she told me to have a good day. I looked right back at her and told her I was going to go home and put on some real clothes and walked out the door. Like it was your average, everyday, most normal conversation in the world. Like nothing had ever happened. 
You’re welcome, Barrelassers 😉


Oh no they didn’t! Did they really give me a megaphone as I walked into my son’s high school football game? I have the stage now! This is exactly what I need- an audience! Just in case anyone has ever had a hard time hearing me, the problem has been solved. Unfortunately- I really don’t know much about football, and the truth is, the only football team that I follow is the one that my son plays on. I don’t even know the rules, but I’m not a complete idiot- I clap when our side claps, and now, thanks to my shiny new megaphone, I shout out whatever the guy in front of me is shouting- “That’s a live ball, Ref! Are you blind? That was holding, you dumb-ass!” Or on the lighter side when he screamed something, I just grabbed my megaphone and shouted, “Yeah!” to back up what he was saying.

I do however know that once I can see one of our guys has the ball, (I mean let’s face it- it takes me half the play to see where the hell the ball is)  I can jump up and cheer for us to run, run, run! I look downright mean in this photo, but truthfully, our team was on top of it this evening and did very well. There were no real problems. I just played around with my new toy.

The real problem is going to happen when basketball season starts. I don’t know all the rules in basketball either, but I do have a lot more opinions and emotions when he plays basketball. I get mad at everyone in the room, I hate everyone who isn’t my son’s biggest fan and I find it very hard to control myself in there and I’m fairly certain that on a recent  trip with my husband and aquaintances, I called certain people involved douchbags- or something quite similar over drinks- several, many drinks. My bad 😦 The only way I’ve ever been able to keep my shit together is knowing that my son would never forgive me for causing such a scene at his game- knowing in all truth that most of the people I’m screaming at in basketball aren’t paying any attention to me and can’t hear me…UNTIL NOW. See you at the basketball games, you f*#&^ers!

Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂