I have been thinking about my clothing choices for this trip. My thoughts are that they worked out fairly well. Good town clothes, good hiking clothes, good après-hiking clothes (i.e. the town clothes), etc.
I have been laboring under the impression that, if not exactly stylish, a level to which I have never aspired, I have presented a respectable face (and behind) to the world as we have traveled through Ireland. However, as the end of our time in the emerald isle approached, my options became increasingly narrow. In fact, the clothes that I wore to our final dinner on Sunday were the clothes I had to wear Monday on the train from Killarney to Dublin and then, hopefully, today on the plane from Dublin to San Francisco. After all, it’s not like I was going to work up a sweat or anything. And one more day of wrinkles on my linen would just add charm. right?
When disrobing for bed last night, I noticed that the back of my white pants had acquired a LARGE tea colored stain all across the backside. Retroactive mortification set in.
I have to assume that the stain was the result from some external factor: Beer spilled on a chair I sat on, tea dribbled onto a bench I chose to perch upon. If not from some external factor, I need to revisit that decision not to pack adult diapers when I travel.