The suckhole that soaked my pants & exposed my weakness

Sunday offered a burst of unexpectedly gorgeous weather, which seemed like a good excuse for a late-afternoon hike.

I set out with a friend along a scenic trail beside the Deschutes River. We’d gone a couple miles when I suggested stopping to enjoy the scenery from a giant rock overhanging the river. The sun was starting to dim, so I pulled off my prescription sunglasses and set them in my lap.

I know myself well enough to realize the likelihood I’d forget the glasses was the same as the likelihood I’d make inappropriate jokes about the giant suckhole formed by the water swirling beneath our rock.

It didn’t take long for both things to occur. With a soft kerplunk, my glasses tumbled off my lap and into the water.

“Uh-oh.” I peered over the ledge and into the swirling eddy of chilly whitewater sloshing over jagged rocks. “My glasses.”

My companion was on his feet in an instant, clambering down the rock ledge on an optical rescue mission. Since it didn’t seem wise to let him drown while I stood on the ledge and made more suckhole jokes, I clambered down the rocks to assist.

The river was icy and swift, but I rolled up the legs on my capris and stuck a leg in to test the depth. It came just above my knees, so I lowered myself into the chilly water to peer beneath the rock.

Two seconds later, I was in it up to my crotch. I yelped as the glacier-fed river hit my lady bits, but since I was already soaked, I made a good show of pretending to look for the glasses I knew I’d never find.

Then I crawled out of the water and added a few wet panty jokes to my growing repertoire of suckhole humor.

Still fretful about the glasses, my companion stayed below, braving the frigid water and potential nutsack frostbite in pursuit of the drowned spectacles.

“It’s OK, really,” I called down from the ledge. “This I why I buy cheap glasses. I basically bank on losing four or five pairs a year.”

It’s sad, but true. In my younger years, I thought I could change my habits. I focused hard on keeping track of my glasses. I bought fancy cases to keep them in, and even tried splurging on nicer pairs in hopes of tricking myself into being more responsible.

It never worked.

These days, I accept my weakness. I know I’m not going to change, so I’ve learned to buy cheap prescription glasses and not get too attached.

It’s the same with writing sometimes. Try as I may to be a responsible plotter who plans out her stories before spewing words onto the page, I know I’ll never manage to do it. I compensate by surrounding myself with critique partners and beta readers who are skilled at digging me out of my plot holes.

I know I’ll never feel like writing a blog post after a big dinner and a glass or twelve two of good wine, so I’ve learned to write earlier in the evening and reward myself afterward with the food and drink.

Do you have weaknesses you’ve learned to work around as you’ve aged? Got any good coping strategies or ways you’ve overcome your own weaknesses? Please share!

I have to make an appointment with the optometrist. Here’s hoping he enjoys a good suckhole joke.