Don’t be surprised if this silly scene
from my life winds up in a future book.

Yesterday, I was leaving the house for an appointment. I’d settled into my car in the driveway and was about to start it when I noticed the veggies in the raised garden beyond the driveway looked limp. So I got out to water them.

As I was watering, I stumbled. Then, during what felt like a slow-motion fall, I tried to stop the tumble by grabbing the planter’s edge. That’s when I dropped the hose, which spun around and sprayed me — head to toe: hair, face, clothes.

I landed on my bum but could not reach the hose—so the drenching continued. Then I felt tickles on my legs. The water had disturbed an ant colony, and they were climbing up my legs, under my pants—millions of them.

While this was happening, my apple watch wanted to know if I needed emergency services. I was in an awkward, tangled position and would have loved some help getting back on my feet, but it wasn’t an emergency—so the ants kept marching while the water kept spraying.

Needless to say, I was late for my appointment.