Still Funny a Good Year Later

We had a rainy Seattle Labor Day BBQ yesterday at our place. We did everything any other group of family and friends would do at just such an event but we of course did it in the rain. A two year old played in the pool, the go-cart flung grass and mud everywhere for hours, Job burnt hamburgers and brats, we ate watermelon, picked apples and laughed about crazy things we'd done all while the skies poured and the thunder echoed through the valley. Of course when it comes to crazy things the topic always seems fall on the time last summer where I glued my pants and underwear to my butt. So, since I could use a little laugh this morning I thought I would share the incident.
To get the full effect I have to tell you about an e-mail I got about a week before I glued my pants and underwear to my butt. It was sent to me by my friend Katie and it was hilarious. It was about a woman who tried to do an at home wax job in her nether region and the job went bad. She ended up in a panic and somehow waxed her entire crotch to the bottom of her bathtub. Her husband had luckily installed a phone in the bathroom so she was able to call a friend for help.
So, like I said, about a week later on a rare sunny day in June, I was sitting on the front porch decoupaging a little table I had found at a local antique store when I accidentally tipped over the bottle of ModPodge. Not wanting to abandon the project I kept right on working until the little table was covered and trimmed in pretty blue and white paper. But (no pun intended), when I stood up the pool of ModPodge had dried and I had unintentionally glued my pants and underwear to my Butt. It was about the size of a salad plate and when I walked it pulled and tugged at my skin. It was quite an uncomfortable predicament. So, I called the person I turn to with all my problems, Job. I have come to be quite dependent on Job. He kills spiders, fills my car with gas, changes light bulbs, lifts heavy objects but would not help me figure out how to unstick my clothes. He did tell me I had two choices, pull it off quick or maybe get in the tub and soak it off. He obviously does not understand the power of ModPodge nor had he read the e-mail from Katie.
So, my next plan of attack- call Katie! She is "krafty" and who I call screaming when I have a chicken in my kitchen and coyotes in my yard. She will help. I tell Katie what I have done and when the laughing dies down she says to maybe get it wet. I tell her that Job told me to get into the tub and there is a brief moment of silence and the laughing starts again. At that point I know we are both thinking of the poor lady who wax sealed her vagina to the bathtub and I knew if I got into the tub there would be no help from Katie.
Finally, I realized I was on my own and I did what I do in most overwhelming situations in my life- ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Unfortunately, three hours later after a large glass of water and six versions of the Indian Pee dance mostly done by small children on the front doorstep because they are afraid to use the public restroom, I was forced to deal with the situation or find out how urine and ModPodge react. The pants and underwear, in the end (HA HA) came off quickly leaving a red mark the size of a salad plate on my left butt cheek. The pants and underwear were thrown out. ModPodge does not wash out.