Irony

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Today, due to an attempt to liven up a staff meeting to discuss insurance benefits, our department got to dress down.

Sure, I ended up wearing a 10 gallon hat, a neckerchef, and winning such stellar prizes as a rubber frog and hideous santa slippers, but I got to wear jeans to work.

This was the first time since I said good-bye to my little kiddie-pies that I wore jeans to work. And wouldn't you know it, but this was also the first time that I slipped on my way to work thereby picking up a large dirt smudge, a legion of grass pieces, and a baby snail on my jeans.

Now, you might suppose that this would be enough, but no, at lunch, I managed to squirt fajitas all over my jeans.

I'm not complaining, no, I would much rather have had all of this excitment in jeans than in one of my limited dry-clean only skirts, but it does seem that maybe jeans are a more dangerous thing to wear in my new life than I anticipated.

Comments

Chris said…
Becca! Chris just showed me your blog. :) I loved the "squirting" of the fajitas...they didn't just slide onto your pants or fall onto your pants...they squirted, like a dieing sea anemone losing its lunch. It's almost as if you figure it was trying to get you.

But what I gotta know...is this more ironic than rain on your wedding day? Or is it simply pathetic? :) -- Sheri
10:11 AM
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