Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Is being old an excuse?

I have reached a new high in distraction. Or perhaps a new low? There are times when I get so involved with what I’m doing that I forget where I am. Or who I am with. Much to the surprise of the babies, I have on occasion referred to their friends as “honey”. Easy to do, yes? I mean, there’s a bunch of kids, two of them are yours, you call them honey and somehow it just slips out. Actually, that has happened elsewhere too. I called a client honey once. With any luck he didn’t notice. Or if he did, didn’t care.

I once answered my front door wearing shorts, a bra and an apron. Thank heavens it was the Mrs. from next door, not the Mr.!

Anyway, for reasons that might be unusual for others but aren’t for me I am currently doing all the laundry at a Laundromat. I have come to enjoy it, actually. I even have a relationship of sorts with the owner. I just avoid Saturdays as that seems to be when the crazy people who must talk to you do their laundry. I don’t mind crazy people but I prefer to read during the lulls between washing and drying. I do have a bit of fondness for the one woman who, on my first day there came over to me and whispered – in the appropriate voice for profound secrets – “everything has already happened”.

This past Sunday was laundry day. No kids with me (The Girl got tickets to the Labour Day Classic so they were at the game) so I packed four sacks of dirty laundry, money, soap and a book and off I went. I was wearing green, but not specifically Rider Gear.

For those who may be reading from elsewhere the provincial CFL football team is the Saskatchewan Rough Riders. Every labour day weekend they play a game against perennial foes The Winnipeg Blue Bombers. Regina is a sea of green on game day. The majority of the population wears green, and there are flags and signs everywhere you look. So – yes for the green, no to the specific Rider green/gear.

Four washes and many quarters of drying later I was folding clothes for The Girl when I came across a Rider T-shirt. I looked at it and thought “hey, I should change into that”. And I did. Right there. Without thinking. Without shame. Until I saw the looks on the other patrons faces and realized what I’d done. Whipped off a shirt in public. Geez, you can’t take me anywhere!


  1. Check your email. I can't put pictures in my comments but it was too good to miss.

  2. Point 1: Why don't women just rip their shirts off when I'm around, sometimes life doesn't seem fair at all...guess I should be hanging around more laundromats.

    Point 2: The name of the team is Roughriders...Rough Riders was the former name of the team in Ottawa.