Just in case I have to apply for a job in the future and need to explain my appearance on some council register it’s probably best that I put today’s ‘incident’ on record.
Every Friday when we hear the bin lorry reversing down the road panic ensues as I grab the last bag of rubbish from the kitchen and dash outside.
Is there anything less emasculating than meeting the bin men wearing a white toweling Avon dressing gown?
Turns out there is!
This morning I raced out as normal but in my haste somehow managed to catch my dressing gown pocket on the gate, and as I stumbled onto the pavement most of my dressing gown remained in the garden.
Now I managed to keep my cool and acted as if nothing had happened, safe in the knowledge I was partly dressed underneath in my T-shirt and pants.
In a pathetic attempt to disguise my dressing gown disaster I made polite conversation about how I nearly miss them every week before collecting the recycle bin from further down the road and returning inside!
It was only as I closed the door behind me and the resulting breeze swept across my naked nether regions that the full horror was apparent.
I’d been stood with hand on hips chatting to the men with my bobby dazzlers freely swinging below my T-shirt like I was proudly showing off some recently won medals!
I’ve now had to set a repeat alarm on my phone for 11pm the night before as a reminder to put the bins out, and another for 7am the following morning reminding me to keep the curtains closed until lunchtime!