Shoulda Stayed at Home

I just got home from picking up my hubby's grandmother at the beauty parlor. Mr T and I picker her up around 10:30 so we went to eat lunch at McDonalds. Because that's what you do when you're 90 years old. You eat lunch at 10 or 10:30, dinner at 3, and a huge snack of cookies, candy and cokes later in the evening. Because at the age of 90, you don't have to worry about nutrition. AT ALL.

We get to McDonalds and I promptly get tangled up in Mr T's feet and end up on my bottom on the floor...right in front of everyone. Way to go Bumpsy Daisy. Then we get to the table and as I am handing Grandmother my pickles...I don't eat pickles, by the way. I like them on my sandwich because they flavor the bread, but I don't eat them. So, I hand the pickles to Grandmother and knock over her full cup of coffee. How I managed to spill the entire cup on MYSELF and no one else is beyond me, but suffice it to say, I was soaked. So, I had to eat my chicken sandwich soaked and shivering.

Now I am safely back at home, in my pajamas again, smelling softly of coffee, because I only have one pair of blue jeans fit to wear in public, and they are in the washer. And all I can do is laugh.