Poor Placement

19 years ago I was serving in Rondebosch in the South Africa Capetown Mission.  I loved the area as it was just at the foot of Table Mountain, on the back side anyway.  The University of Capetown was right there.  Anyhow, it was a good area. 

I will never forget the day I was out on exchanges with one of the Assistants to President Armstrong.  We were getting things out of the boot of the car.  The boot is the trunk for those unfamiliar with this terminology.  Anyhow, I had taken my bag and stuck it on the sidewalk as we grabbed a couple more things.  There was a gentlemen walking his little white fluffy dog down the sidewalk.  As they approached us the dog veered over, lifted his leg and left his mark on my bag.  The man just kept walking apparently oblivious to what had just occurred.  Either that or he was laughing silently for getting one over on us Mormon Missionaries.  Coming down the sidewalk a ways behind him was another man.  He too was walking his dog and had seen what had just taken place and my look of horror.  He chuckled and said, you might want to move that bag before my dog does the same thing.  His dog was no little white fluffy thing.  No, his dog was a giant Great Dane.  You better believe I moved that bag.  This was a serious case of poor placement. 

Tonight, just over an hour ago, Jack jumped up from our reading perch on the couch and ran for the kitchen.  Just a step or two into it he threw up everywhere.  Oh my goodness that is one of my least favorite things in the world.  Easily top 5.   You know, right up there with celery.  Anyhow, the throw up did not fall kindly for Natalie.  Her backpack was, shall we say poorly placed and as a result caught a lot of the splash.  Sooo sad.  I cleaned the back pack and everything else I could.  I'm sure by morning the smell will have faded, at least we hope so.