My husband was having a bad day, he said. Well, I thought, it's not going to get any better with the plans we had for the evening. Painting the outside of a house is not a job that would make a bad day better.
There were two pluses, however. He would get to use his new paint sprayer - every guy likes to use new tools - and we'd be eating at his favorite restaurant.
He still had a frown on his face when we pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant. I tried to cheer him up. "Look, honey, they have a special on mocha milkshakes."
I saw a hint of interest and for a moment his bad day seemed to take a back seat to the anticipation of sipping a mocha milkshake with his meal. The specter of his bad day was apparently still in evidence, however, because the moment that mocha milkshake hit the counter, he reached out to grab it and had a spasmatic reaction (Not a word, but it hopes to be one someday.).
The sweetly anticipated mocha milkshake was suddenly decorating not only the stainless steel counter but also my flip-flop clad foot.
"I can't believe this!" my husband groaned. "I told you I was having a bad day."
I looked at my foot; sticky, cold and completely buried in mocha milkshake. I looked at his feet which were both clean and dry with no evidence of collateral damage from the spill.
"I'm just so glad to be included in your bad day, honey," I said between chattering teeth.
Experimentally, I picked up my foot before it became one with the floor, shook it a little and thought, "Nope. That's not going away."
As women have done throughout history when something disastrous happens, I headed for the restroom, leaving a trail of brown, sticky footprints in my wake. A girl rushed a yellow mop bucket to the scene of the accident. I heard my husband talking to her.
"What happened?" she asked him.
"You see that clean spot right in the middle of that spill? Well, that's where my wife's foot was. I'm having a really bad day."
When I got to the bathroom, I wasn't quite sure what to do. I mean, I've had many experiences with emergencies that required a restroom visit: Ketchup on a white shirt, diaper changes, running mascara, broken bra straps and breast-feeding crises. But I've never had an entire milkshake spilled on my bare feet.
As I saw it, I had two options. I could - assuming this was still possible - hike my foot up to the sink and run water over it, or stick my foot in a toilet and flush.
If there were more women in the restroom, I may have chosen the toilet. At least I could've closed the door and no one would have seen me do it. But considering my innate distaste of public toilets, instilled in me by my mother over the last four decades, I found it nearly impossible to consider that option. As it was, the restroom was empty, though I didn't know how long it would stay in that condition.
The Rockettes would have been proud of the way I hoisted my foot up to the sink, slinging mocha milkshake hither and yon. Since I can't reach down and touch my feet even under normal conditions without squatting, trying to turn on the faucet with my foot in the sink was considerably more difficult.
After several failed attempts, I finally hopped on one foot to where I could lean against the wall, and reached with one hand, while draping my other arm over the paper towel dispenser for balance.
That's when two women walked into the restroom. They looked shocked. I found some nerve I didn't know I had and said, "What are you looking at?" as if the spectacle before them was an ordinary restroom event.
These were smart women who knew they should never engage a lunatic in a discussion about sanity. They disappeared into the stalls as I hurried to get the mocha milkshake out from between my toes. I did not want to be there when they came out!
Considering that the day hadn't ended yet, it was not at all surprising that the first thing my husband accidently sprayed with his new paint sprayer was the back of my legs.
As I slowly turned around to face his horrified grimace, he looked as if he were at a serious loss for words.
"I know," I said. "You're having a bad day!"
