Warning: I would give this post a PG-13 rating.

So, I suppose that humbling moments are good for a person. Humbling moments can come in all shapes and sizes. Mine tend to come in the shape and size of "ewww ... that's weird."

Okay, ready ... here goes ...

I have had some strange pimple-like thing on my posterior and, you guessed it, it picked a pretty weird spot to locate itself. One of those "hard to reach" spots.

I haven't quite known what to do with it but, this morning, I decided that a bandaid was in order. So, to the cupboard I went, looking for the perfect shape and size. They make a lot of different bandaids these days and we have a pretty good sampling of them. I wanted one that would seal well on all sides rather than "gap" in the middle. The gap could cause chafing. And I did not want chafing.

So I chose the perfect bandaid. It just happened to have Bob the Builder on it. I thought that it was a little funny going around with Bob on my bum but it seemed like the right thing to do. Lisa and I had a laugh about it when I shared this fact with her.

I figured my exposure of this secret would end there.

But, today was a warm, humid day in Ohio. And I was wearing shorts. And some friends came over. One was helping me carry some things into the garage when, on one trip, I looked down and could only gasp. There he was -- Bob the Builder, sticky side up, in all his glory. Yes, I was wearing underwear. How he escaped, I do not know but he did.

So I hatched the perfect plan. I was carrying things toward the garage when I saw Bob. I quickly decided that my return trip to the car would give me the perfect opportunity to reach down inconspicuously and grab Bob. My friend, who was helping carry things, was behind me at the time but his hands were full and I figured he would never see Bob, provided my plan could be executed with flawless precision.

Only one problem -- when I returned to the car, Bob was no longer there. Crud!

I knew there was only one place he could be -- on the bottom of my friend's new Ecco sandals he was proudly wearing. Crud! (or something like that) He really never had seen Bob. I was certain what Bob's demise had been. But, I had to be sure. Doing so
was going to require drastic measures so, in true Bob the Builder fashion, I thought to myself "Can we fix it? Yes we can!"

I did the only thing I could do. I immediately said "Say, those are nice sandals. Can I see the bottom of them?"

He complied by lifting up his foot so I could see the bottom of his sandal and, from his perspective, he could not see it. There on the bottom of his sandal was exactly what --or rather who -- I expected: Bob the Builder. Complete with his drill and that big smile.

I was fortunate my friend lifted that foot first. It would have been difficult to explain why I wanted to see the bottom of both shoes.

So, I admired the sole of his sandal, bending over to get a good look ... and quickly grabbing Bob, tucking him inconspicuously into my pocket.

Can we fix it? Yes we can!