I Have Something Random To Say
Today i recalled this because of my trousers. I was doing some work in the garden, and wearing a pair of thick old frumpy trousers that i don't care about, now. (It's going to be hot again tomorrow, but during a lull in the heatwave, while i was doing a bit of grubby, earthy digging and weeding work, I wore these monster trousers.)
I must have loved these trousers once. Why else would i have them? Well, i did. But a horrifying thing happened to me once when i was wearing them, leaving me with a mild form of ptsd.
At a picnic out in the garden, while wearing them, I accidentally knelt on a slug. Yes, you read that right! I, an unsqueamish person who has happily scoffed escargots, and chocolate covered ants - a person who has donated blood without fainting - knelt on a squishy wet trail-leaving, disgusting slug!
Instinctively defaulting to a survival technique, i slowed my heart rate and did not panic, but calmly scraped it off using a conveniently present trowel. I ran straight to the house, removing my trousers en route. (This was a feat in itself.) The lord and master became quickly aware that something highly alarming was up, and dutifully followed.
Still horribly calm, I placed the trousers in the washing machine, put them on boil wash, and dashed upstairs. I was followed by the man, bearing large tot of Jamesons. I lay down, being intermittently fed whiskey to calm my nerves, for only an hour before being fit to resume normal life.
My trousers were ready for the tumble drier by the time i was ok. But ive kept them separate from my real clothes ever since.
I must have loved these trousers once. Why else would i have them? Well, i did. But a horrifying thing happened to me once when i was wearing them, leaving me with a mild form of ptsd.
At a picnic out in the garden, while wearing them, I accidentally knelt on a slug. Yes, you read that right! I, an unsqueamish person who has happily scoffed escargots, and chocolate covered ants - a person who has donated blood without fainting - knelt on a squishy wet trail-leaving, disgusting slug!
Instinctively defaulting to a survival technique, i slowed my heart rate and did not panic, but calmly scraped it off using a conveniently present trowel. I ran straight to the house, removing my trousers en route. (This was a feat in itself.) The lord and master became quickly aware that something highly alarming was up, and dutifully followed.
Still horribly calm, I placed the trousers in the washing machine, put them on boil wash, and dashed upstairs. I was followed by the man, bearing large tot of Jamesons. I lay down, being intermittently fed whiskey to calm my nerves, for only an hour before being fit to resume normal life.
My trousers were ready for the tumble drier by the time i was ok. But ive kept them separate from my real clothes ever since.
