There are some who handle narcotics well and others who don’t. I, unfortunately, fall within the latter group. Thus, while I remembered to wear underwear and pants upon awakening this morning — thanks to my bathroom mirror note — I did not manage to avoid a second Tussionex-induced embarrassment. But things will be different tomorrow, so my wife assures me!
As with yesterday, I again awoke in a decidedly groggy state, courtesy of my prescription cough medicine. Once more, barks from Prometheus roused me. I hurriedly answered nature’s call, splashed water on my face and followed the directions on the mirror to don glasses, underwear and pants before removing the dog from his crate.
Due to the continuing effects of the Tussionex, I accomplished these tasks in a daze. I blindly groped for my tee-shirt and sweatpants on the closet bench, reflexively climbed into them and stumbled downstairs with Prometheus tucked under one arm.
Only as we left the house did I realize that I’d removed my glasses to slip into my shirt and then forgot to replace the eyewear again. In addition, a noticeable tightness and discomfort of fit belatedly alerted me to a further haberdashery error. I’d apparently put my clothes on backwards, and the pants had ridden up my butt crack!
Unlike yesterday, this morning’s excursion did not take place on an empty street. Prometheus and I passed a woman walking her dog, with two kids in tow. Sans glasses I couldn’t make out individual faces, but I had no trouble hearing the comments tossed our way. One kid pointed at us and said: “That’s funny!” Another, who must’ve known me, yelled while laughing: “Mr. Richard; what’s that you’re wearing?” Meanwhile, the adult didn’t say a word, but I could swear she glared malevolently at me.
When we returned home, I found my wife waiting at the front door. She held my glasses in one hand and a tee-shirt and sweatpants in the other. Curiously, the clothing proved to be mine … which meant that the ensemble I’d donned was hers. She confirmed this conclusion while hustling us inside the house: “Honey, the next time you grab my clothes out of the closet, try to pick something less conspicuous than Juicy Couture, or at least choose a better combination than the lime green top and pink bottoms!”
Sophia feels confident no untoward incidents will occur again as a result of my narcotics’ daze, mostly because she’ll be walking Prometheus every morning until the cough syrup runs out.