These are the times that try men’s souls! And most of the problems are my own doing, for sure!

Last weekend, Fred and I took a road trip. A very generous basketball fan had given us two tickets to the Kansas University-West Virginia basketball game. It is a rare occurrence when we can go to a KU game, so we happily accepted. We enjoy college football, and attend both the Kansas State games and the KU games when we can. I acknowledge that we are weirdos since we like and follow both teams. Both games were slated for 3 p.m., so no way could we attend both.

We considered beforehand whether we wanted to go to the game, because the weather was snowy and icy, especially further east. So we weighed all the options of this road trip. Did we even want to go? Did we want to spend the night? Wasn’t it more comfortable to watch the games in the comfort of our own armchairs, with our bowls of popcorn in our laps? Yes to all the questions. But, being the opportunists we are, we ventured forth!

I filled my thermos cup with coffee, grabbed a few pieces of fruit, all my luggage, my hanging clothes, my make-up, and my Kindle, and we were off. About 100 miles down the road, we decided to stop for a refill, and an empty. Get it? I stuffed my thermos cup in my purse, and headed for the rest-room. Entering the stall, I hung my purse on the door hook. As I sat there, I looked up and a puddle of brown water was on the floor under my purse. What’s that? Oh my gosh! The thermos had tipped over, and the remaining coffee was dripping profusely out of my purse onto the floor. Oh shoot!

I shot to the sink, emptied my purse into the bowl (hoping the faucet was not one of those sensor-automatic turn-ons), and explained to the gal washing her hands next to me what I had done. You know, one can make good friends in the rest-rooms, if you just give it a chance!

My wallet was wet on the outside only, (thank you Lord) my papers and notes were soaked, (no big deal), my phone only got a little wet on the outside, and my lipstick was still dry. There were two very soaked dollar bills in the bottom of the soggy purse.

After dumping what water remained out of the purse, I then grabbed paper towels, and proceeded to clean up the brown puddles on the floor of the rest-room. You know what people would think those puddles were if I didn’t clean the mess up, right?

I soaked up towel after towel. I wiped down all the tracks I had made entering the restroom, where the dripping purse had followed me. When I was finished, I exited the place, and there was Fred, standing by the coffee and potato chips, wondering what happened to me.

I told him. Nothing surprises Fred any more.

We climbed into the car, and continued on our way.

I emptied the purse, pulled out the lining so that it could dry, and sipped on my new hot cup of java from the insidious, evil thermos cup.

“Onward and upward,” I say. And I chomped on my apple.

Judi Tabler lives in Pawnee County and is a guest columnist for the Great Bend Tribune. She can be reached at bluegrasses@gmail.com. Visit her website juditabler.com.