The other evening, Calyssa and I were at the laundromat in Moraga. (As much as I love our apartment, I really miss having a washer and dryer in the kitchen. But, I digress.) I was about halfway through folding the hill of clothes - when you can't do laundry but twice a month, it tends to mount up - when she informed me that she needed a restroom. Since there doesn't appear to be one at the laundromat, I directed her to the pizzeria next door and went back to folding clothes.
A few minutes later, Calyssa burst back through the door. "Mama, guess what? I made a really HUGE stinky!" she announced. There was a reasonably attractive guy at the next folding table, working his way through his clean clothes. Naturally, he heard.
"Hey, it happens," the guy says, and chuckled.
I'm glad he was such a good sport, because I was mortified. PS: I hate that I blush so easily!
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