fracas

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I blame daddypapersurfer. You should too.

It all started when I won Kyle’s oneredpaperclip book, offered up by the good folks at fuelmyblog. Daddypapersurfer wanted the book and when Kyle chose my post to win it, I thought I’d be a kind soul and just give the book to poor Daddypapersurfer. I asked Sylvie to arrange it for me, and send the book on to him instead of to me.

No sooner had I done that, but he (that elder surfer of the paper) decided he would send a t-shirt to the lovely Sylvie… and me. Sure… you might think that was noble and grand of him, but his gift came with a catch. Sylvie and I were supposed to each have our lovely misters (in her case, the very Hasselhoff-resembling Kevin Dixie and in my case, the very anonymous looking Mr. Fracas) throw a bucket of water upon us and thus create a wet t-shirt. Of course, we were supposed to take a photo of said wet t-shirt and post it for all to see. 

Sylvie posted a photo of herself wearing the shirt, although there didn’t seem to be much water involved in the photo… and I, I had to wait until such shirt could make its way all the way to Canada.

Shortly before Christmas, a shirt arrived in the fraccy mailbox, and I wrote “take wet t-shirt photo” on my to-do list.

It’s been a challenge I do have to say. Never in all my days, did I expect to happen to me, what happened after I suited up and poised myself on the linoleum floor (easier to clean up than the carpet, silly) for the photo.

Now, it’s been no secret that fracas has many siblings. It’s also been no secret that many of them are female. In fact, it has become commonplace, for the elder surfer of paper to make references to a (gasp) coven. Indeed, both here at my own blog, and at his own… he has uttered that c-word. I can’t imagine why. I mean, I don’t recall ever posting any family pictures that would’ve tipped him off or anything like that…

I tell you, Mr. Fracas was quite upset at what happened next.

It was an ordeal for me. One moment I was standing there, wearing a shirt only someone’s mother could look at (what does one call the mother of an elder papersurfer?) and the next minute I was just simply… gone. Nothing but a memory and a lingering echo of a cry echoing through the fraccy home…

“You cur-sed brat goat, look what you’ve done!, I’m melting!” “What a world! “Who would’ve thought a good little girl wrinkly old headcase like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness fracciness!”

I don’t know what happened next, and have no memory of it but as I understand it, Mr. Fracas had to call in Gypsy Fra-Kitty to use her special Gypsy powers to help get me back. Damned if he was going to clean up the mess, or finish baking the Christmas cookies. (Mr. Fracas is not known for his baking.) He did however, manage to get a photo of the disaster.

I’m calling it my wet t-shirt photo - first attempt.

You’d think I’d be upset at all this happening to me, but oddly, I am not. You see… when I returned, it seems I am about 7 pounds lighter than when I left. A remarkable thing for a woman during the holiday season… to actually lose weight.

The next attempt at a wet t-shirt photo will be posted soon. I don’t give up easily. I may though, decide to lose a few more pounds this way first.

It sure as heck beats giving up all those Christmas goodies.

[Family Picture Credit: In The Labyrinth]