I had a wet t-shirt and he had wee on his trousers

You can tell that I took the family out in public AGAIN.

So imagine, if you will, that you have spent the morning cleaning bathrooms, wrangling tired and crabby children and pantsing your husband at every opportunity.  Then, you glance at the clock and realise you have to be at the RWAus2010 conference in an hour,  AND that a crucial part of your planned outfit is presently a crumpled heap on the floor and suffering badly from the last time you wore it and forgot to deodorise your right armpit.

That would've been me at around 11am this morning.  Needless to say, aforementioned top was immediately washed. Not on a short wash. No. On a long wash. That I couldn't stop.  Because there wasn't quite enough stress in my life.

Next, fast forward to me, getting in the car with a top just pulled from the washing machine, on a bright cool day with a brisk breeze.  Wretchedly, miserably Cold.

Of course we were running just a smidge late by this point, and so when, Miss 4 announced that she needed a wee when we were surrounded by six lanes of stationary traffic, there was a minor loss of patience on my part (I am an outstanding parent, we all know this).

Having made it to a quiet side street, hubs lost the coin toss and ended up being 'the assistant.'  We were on a steep hill and within moment his left shoe found itself placed, somewhat unfortunately, downstream.

There was a great deal of surprisingly athletic hopping on his part, a deeply disconcerted Miss 4, who nevertheless continued to perform like a professional, and unkind snickering from me. The entire situation came to a climax with a howl of distress from hubs as the tide curled up over his shoe, soaked itself into his jeans, his sock and dribbled inside his shoe.

When we arrived at the conference my top was still damp and clingy and, well, hubs squelched slightly as he walked. An irresistible pair.

sigh.