First Pants

There’s a classic Far Side comic where a man, just waking up, sits on the side of his bed, still in his pajamas.

He’s staring at the wall, featuring a huge white poster with his morning reminder:

First pants, THEN your shoes.

My motorbike has a switch connected to the ignition. When I kick out the stand to put the bike to rest, the engine itself kicks out. Without turning off the ignition switch.

If the switch is left on, there’s a trickle, trickle, trickle draining of the battery. So if I leave the bike parked for a few hours, it’s goodbye starter, and an instant stranding.

It’s taken me upwards of half a dozen times, dependent on friends and colleagues to bail me out, to learn not to do so. On the sixth time, I felt like I needed a huge wall sign to stick on the bike.

First switch, then the kickstand.

Today, I’ve got that persistent, tired behind the eyes fog. I power myself to get out the door and hop on the bike. It starts without a problem and I make my way to school.

I power through my morning, and in a moment of bewilderment at a couple young third graders who, through no fault of their own, are confused and behaving like, well, children, I blurt, without thinking,

First pants, THEN your shoes!

They stare, befuddled.

And in the moment, this remembrance of laughs past takes the edge off, and makes me smile.

---

---