Poop and Pajamas

I went grocery shopping this morning, and came home a little after 12pm.  As I pulled into the garage, I noticed my handsome husband standing on the porch in his flannel pajama pants, talking to Jehovah's Witnesses.  Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against his pajamas.  I personally think men's flannel pajamas are sexy (yes, I said it).  Just, I'm not sure if wearing them at lunch time while talking to JW's is a sin or not?   I don't have anything against JW's, either.  The ones I have met have been extremely sweet and pleasant.  I do have issues with their interpretation of the Bible, but that's for another time.

At the same time I arrived home, I noticed the gardeners walking up to our house with their equipment.  Our gardeners have this odd rule about not mowing our lawn if we have anything but grass on it so, after parking, I raced into the backyard to clean up the dog poop left by our recent visitors (note to self:  don't let the dogs near the K'Nex).  We could actually be prepared for the gardeners, as they do come according to a schedule, but we never ever pay attention; we enjoy the surprise.

After cleaning up the backyard, I joined my husband on the porch.  I didn't mean to interrupt the flow of conversation but my presence solicited introductions.  Okay, no big deal.  That's when the "worst thing ever" happened:  the guy reached out to shake my hand.  I get that handshakes are a normal American custom, but just as this guy reached out his hand to mine it dawned on me:  after cleaning up the dog poo, I never washed my hands.  And to think he's probably on his way to shake some more hands.  =/  My bad.

The JW's did a great job encouraging us to read the Bible and making sure we "worship God correctly."   I bit my lip and tried so hard not to laugh when Stuart asked how he could get a copy of their version of the Bible.  They were obviously thrilled.  When the visit ended, I asked him why he was just standing there letting them talk so much.  He responded, "Hey, I just used up an hour of their time that could have been spent talking to someone else."

How clever, honey.

The moral of this story:  get dressed early and wash your hands often.