Why does Madame want me to take off my pants?

A cup of hot tea.

It belongs on a desk, right? Mine shifted ever so slightly to the edge of the desk, took a leap onto my lap, then smashed on the floor. Hot. Very hot. Unpleasantly so. And my pants were soaked. They were so thoroughly soaked that it was also in my shoes.

Not a good way to start the class. But the interesting thing about all this was the look on my students' faces. They were stricken! They looked at me as though I'd just ripped the crucifix off the wall and started smashing windows with it. I asked one terrified girl to go to the staff room and ask if anyone had a towel. She just stared at me, wide-eyed. With a more urgent reminder, off she ran. (Later that day, another teacher asked me why Monica had come running into the staff room demanding a pair of pants. Ms. B said, "Why does Madame want me to take my pants off", and you can imagine the hilarity that ensued from this particular misunderstanding.)

I followed, slowly duck-walking my way down the hall with soaking pants and squishy shoes while my confused class was left unsupervised. In the staff room, I got the expected round of applause, and an offer to watch my class while I straddled the hand-dryer in the bathroom.

In all - not the way to start the day. Especially when one staff member helpfully suggested I tell the kids that I'd forgotten my Depends that day.

But it did make me ever so grateful to the surgeon who fixed up those pelvic muscles, which after pushing two babies out of there, became utterly useless and the cause of great embarassment.