OMG. The only way I can describe what happened to me Sunday is in pictures. Because they are worth a thousand words. It is what I now refer to as "The Incident".

It all began here:



then over in term d a soldier accepts my offer of pepcid, holds up his hand, covers his mouth, then does this:



This is me before THE INCIDENT (so maybe it was song and dance night, what's it to you?):



And me during/after/anytime I think of it now:



Seriously. Wall. Counter. Microwave. Shoe (DID YOU HEAR ME? MY FREAKING SHOE and his). Trash can. Trash bag. Carpet. His Hands (oh, god. gag - his hands.)

NIGHTMARE.

Thank God for 409, Windex, Germ Killing Hand Wash and Sinus Infections (which prevented me from following suit and having my own incident in the adjacent trash can).

Let's all say it together. Bless his heart.

I scrubbed everything down that he touched. EVERYTHING. Twice. I'm such a trooper.

I wanted to run screaming from the building. He was embarrassed and apologetic but me? I was mortified. I felt so bad for him, even if he did get it ON MY FREAKING SHOE. I kept handing him napkins and murmuring words of - well, I'm not really sure what came out of my mouth. Probably something like, "Ohmygawd, ohmygawd, ohmygawd. Mommy! Sweetbabyjesus. I'm not sure what I should do with my hands."

I do remember at one point in between episodes when he was repeating, "I'm sorry. Oh my god. I'm so, so sorr --BLAH!", I gave him directions to the bathroom. Which is when the Medic I had been chatting with prior to THE INCIDENT burst into tears. Happy ones. From laughing. He got the evil eye. Which made him laugh harder.

Why? Oh, why, does this crap-o-la happen to me?

Those were my favorite boots. They are outside right now, in the ice. Do you think it would be okay to wear them again if I boiled 'em? I'm really freaking out about this.

Top Ten to come later...you know - oh, you know - he made THAT list.

Geez.

I miss Virgin Jack in Iraq. I bet he would have never THROWN UP on me. Ugh.