**With apologies to Anne Lamott who of course wrote "Kids, some sick."**

File this morning under "Bound To Happen":

I took a plunge this morning. My normal routine at the gym is to not walk around 'nekkid as a jaybird' as my Arkansan grandma would say, but to do my travelling to and from the shower in my skivvies.

I got in the shower and noticed that part of my usual clean travelling-back-to-the-locker ensemble was missing--the top half. So, instead of putting back on something that was sweaty and disgusting after having showered, I just held up the old towel and walked back. When I got to my locker, I dropped the towel and dressed.

Did I mention that the locker room I usually use was closed for repairs? Did I mention that the one I was in was ungodly busy? Did I mention that as soon as I got back to my locker, where my bra (and everything else) was, and dropped the towel, I noticed Maude ( my parishioner of 'Harold and Maude' fame) standing there next to me? Did I mention that Maude is shorter than me, and that her eyes are at about the right height to get an eyeful?

No? I must have blocked that part out. I'm trying oh, so hard, to forget, and hoping that she will to.

Well, then. Bound to happen, as they say.