Writing With Wet Pants

I am writing this with wet pants. I have only a few minutes before I have to go help feed the calves. It was either change in that few minutes and hope no calf slobber gets on my clean clothes or blog. Needless to say, I chose blogging.

As I said, I am writing this with wet pants. My family and I just returned from dinner. At dinner my father spilled a glass of iced tea. He didn't just spill the glass, however, he spilled it directly into my lap.

Apparently, while buttering some bread, my father got a small tab of butter on his fingertips making them slippery. When he went to pick up his glass, his fingers slipped and lost their grip. Iced tea went right into my lap. There was even a butter smear on the glass.

I sat there stunned for a few seconds not comprehending what had happened. Then I slowly and quietly picked up his lemon from my lap and put it in his glass. I then took the numerous napkins my family was offering me.

I would have been more angry if I myself didn't find the entire situation so funny.