Every Sunday, we have dinner with Tim's twin brother, his wife and their four kids. In the summer, it's cookouts and swimming at our house, in the winter it's their house or our favorite diner.
Last Sunday, Tim, Rose and I were out running errands when Tom called and asked if we wanted to meet them at the ice-skating rink over by Rose's apartment before having dinner. We agreed, and headed right over. Deciding I would just watch, I opted not to stop home and change out of my white cords and good black coat. This was mistakes number one and two.
Since we were fairly close already, we had time to pick up Rose's dog, Murray, and take him with us. Mistake number three.
First, there was the putting on of the skates. I decided to help the six-year old with her brand new, shiny (aka clean) skates (I am not as dumb as I look). Carefully selecting a bench at the far end of the rink, I inspected it for any dirt or grime. Satisfied with its condition, I gingerly sat down to begin lacing her skates. And this is when she plopped her muddy little feet onto my lap.
Attracted by the muffled yelps and flying shoes, Murray decided to investigate. And this is when he plopped his muddy little paws onto my legs.
Great. I now looked like a Dalmatian from the waist down. Well, at least they didn't get the coat. Yet. Not to worry though. Tim and Tom took care of that.
While the skaters were all out working up a sweat, the rest of us were freezing on the sidelines, so the guys walked over to Starbucks and got everyone coffee, tea and hot chocolate.
Already juggling Tim's camera case which is the size of a small backpack, the skate bag filled with shoes, scarves and assorted gloves, someones extra sweater, a toy rifle (can't go skating without the trusty rifle), and my purse (which outweighed everything else), Tim slung his camera around my neck for safe-keeping (Okay, it was official, I had the whole bag-lady thing going).
Upon his return, I also got the privilege of holding his tea (when did I become his personal assistant?) while he ran off to the bathroom (he couldn't have done it before when he was getting the drinks and I had at least one hand free???).
Carefully, I balanced the tea, only sloshing it two or three times onto my shoes and coat as I tried to extricate the band-aid Rose asked for from my purse without putting anything down on the slushy ground (did I not look busy enough?).
When Tim returned, I gave him his tea, camera and hostile stare as I tried to wipe off my coat with a Kleenex.
Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he retreated to a safe distance and began using the telephoto lens.
Tom was not that smart. When nature called him, he thrust his hot chocolate and camera at me. (So now I was his personal assistant?) At this point, I was already holding two other drinks in a cardboard holder. Unfortunately, his cup was a bit big for the holder and quickly popped up out of its section.
There was nothing I could do as it poured down the front of my coat, ran along the bottle of water in my pocket to create a lovely pool inside which my leather glove began to absorb, and then continue down my pant leg and onto (and into) my shoes.
Lovely. Mud and Chocolate. Good thing I opted out of skating. I might have gotten some ice on the bottom of my cords.
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