There I was, alone in the kitchen, hands covered in herbed duck fat and elbow deep in turkey guts, when whoosh! my pants dropped to the floor.
Alice was upstairs, Jason's dad had gone for a walk. "Help!" I yelled to Jason.
"I'll be there in a minute," he called from the living room.
"NOW!" I said, and he rushed in to stand right next to me.
"How can I help?" he asked, seeing no blood, no fire, no obvious emergency.
"MY PANTS!" I said.
He looked confused, took a step back, and looked down.
"OH," he said, as light dawned over Marblehead, "Your pants fell off."
He picked them up and together we waddled over to the sink so that I could wash my hands and hold up my pants while he picked the oft-washed knot out of the drawstring (this took a while) and then retied it.
I'm just as glad no one else was around, but part of me is sorry they missed one of the funniest moments of my personal Thanksgiving history!
This entry was originally posted at
https://lillibet.dreamwidth.org/1300268.html. You can comment either place! There are
comments over there now.