The Hazards of Velcro

After I pick Zoe up from day care we usually go for a walk to the park or around the garden. Before the walk, however, Zoe gets a snack, and because she is sixteen months old, she usually ends up smearing whatever she is eating all over my hair and clothes. Because of this, Chloe and I have taken the simple precaution of always changing into non work clothes as soon as we start handling our little walking hazmat. Today I did just that, grabbing a pair of shorts (woohoo California!) out of the dryer and walking out the door, led by Zoe. She's not walking on her own yet, but she enjoys walking while holding our hands. I was trying to steer her towards the garden, but she seemed to be fixated on walking down the street, so I followed along. Several cars passed by with people smiling broadly at the two of us. I just assumed that they were smiling at Zoe's cuteness at the time. When I got home though, I discovered another possible explanation: it turned out that a pair of red panties had attached themselves to the velcro closure of one of my back pockets and I had been walking around with them stuck to my ass the whole time.