You know how it is.  Some things are funny right away.  The minute they happen, everyone rolls on the floor with hysterics and claims that this is one for the record books.  Other things – well, you have to have a little time and distance before you can get a good chuckle out of them.  If you’re not convinced of this, you’ll come around to my point of view by following Smuffy’s river adventures here and here and his DIY attempts here and here.

In sharing the first of this trio of happenings, I think it’s safe to call it an expose.  I begin with the fact that Smuffy is modest.  If you got a mental picture from “Smuffy Gets It Clean” of just how clean he is, it is fair to say that he considers cleanliness next to modesty.  Smuffy keeps it covered.  The idea of mowing the back yard without a shirt to avoid a farmer tan would give him an embarrassed shudder and the one old photo that he hates to have displayed is from the time when he threw caution to the wind, bought a tank shirt and wore it camping.  I find it hard to believe that he appeared in this birthday photo, all smiles, in a state that he had to consider semi-nude.  The tan lines bear proof that it didn’t happen often.  And, no, Smuffy didn’t have a gold tooth – that’s some weird reflection.  I’d go on and on about what a hunk this guy is, but you can see that for yourself.

Perhaps it teaches us humility when the things that bring us the most embarrassment are allowed to happen to us.  Don’t all things happen for a reason?  Smuffy seems to get his share of humble pie when it comes to staying dressed.  Today I share only one so as to avoid excessive pinkness to his cheeks.

Of course, wouldn’t you know, this incident happened on water.  In his alter-ego as Captain-Super-Wonder-Water-Man, Smuffy may have had some death-defying adventures, such as told here and here, but he managed throughout those to keep his clothes on until the time he vowed not to get in the water at all.

When a couple of friends asked Smuffy to head to the lake one weekend for boating and tubing, I heaved a sigh.  The gleam had come into his eye already.  Talking Smuffy out of a thing is next to impossible and I knew a bad idea when I heard one.  I also knew that being thrown all over the water’s surface on this brand new tube toy by a couple of guys who delighted in half-killing one another was practically irresistible in Smuffy’s book.

“Saturday’s supposed to be a beautiful day,” he remarked.

“So you’re going?”

“No, I’ve been sick with this crud all week.  I probably don’t need a whole lot of lake water flushed up my nose.  I’m better off with an easy weekend of taking care of some stuff that needs doing around the house.”

I could have pirouetted around the room at this display of common sense.  However, it didn’t last long.  The next day, when he broke the news to the boys, their disappointment had him wavering.

“You know”, he commented over lunch.  “I wouldn’t have to get in the water.”

“What?”

“If I went to the lake, I wouldn’t have to get in the water.  I could drive the boat for the other guys.”

“Seriously?  You think you could stand it?  One look at those guys having fun on that new toy and you’ll have to have your turn!  Then, you’ll be sick – sicker than ever – and are you going to call in sick on Monday?”

“I could just drive…”

I gave Smuffy the look.  Many a time Smuffy has gotten the look and has been too dense to notice, but this time he knew I’d read his mail, wasn’t falling for his story and was prepared to say, “I told you so” in that wifely way that tends to make home life most unpleasant.

He dropped the subject.

The next day, he came back with a tactical approach he felt would guarantee results.

“I won’t take swim trunks, or a towel, or anything of the kind.  I’ll just go in regular clothes.  That way, no amount of temptation could induce me to get in the water.”

Now he had me wavering.  Though I saw no chance of him resisting the fun, I saw the possibility of him skinny-dipping, much less skinny-tubing, as completely beyond the realm of possibility. 

“But you’re sick…” I trailed off, abandoning my useless words.

“The sunshine will do me good,” he said, in that tone that let me know that further discussion would be one of those trips around the mulberry bush that wears on a relationship.

Saturday came and Smuffy appeared before me as if on a fashion runway to display that he was clad fully in underwear, socks, oxfords, and a cotton shirt tucked into a pair of tan pants that he even sometimes wore to church when in a casual mood.  They were the sort without belt loops, trendy among guys at the time, with a half-belt in front that fastened with a D ring and elastic at the back.  No, he didn’t look like a nursing home patient – they looked cute on his tushy.

“Just drivin’ the boat!” he declared.

“Uh-huh.”  (What else could I say?)

The boys got back late and I’d already gone to bed when Smuffy came in.  The next day when I asked how things went, I thought he sounded more congested.  He also seemed to be alternating between turning a bright rosy pink and giggling as if amused by some experience he’d be happy not to re-live.

I decided to pry.

“So, is that new water toy all it was cracked up to be?”

“Oh, yeah, it was great!”

“Then tell me how on earth you managed to stay out of the water all day?  Didn’t watching the guys have fun take its toll on your willpower?”

The blush returned.

“Well, I didn’t exactly stay out of the water.”

“You got in with all your clothes?”

“No, after a while, I figured if I just took off my shoes, socks and shirt, I could take a turn or two”, he remarked, looking out the window at nothing in particular.

“And…?”

“Well, I thought if I just grabbed that belt and yanked that D ring really tight I could do it, you know.  I mean, I had it so tight it nearly cut off all my circulation!”

“And…?”

“It didn’t work.”

I merely tilted my head to one side and waited for the rest.

“They took off with that boat at top speed and it just sucked everything right off – pants, underwear – everything.”

“And then you did what?” I asked, for I knew how Smuffy felt about disrobing.

“Well, the boys circled back around to me, but the clothes were gone.  So, they hauled me over the side of the boat and we started trying to figure out what I was going to wear.  They found a scuba suit under the seat.  Do you know how hard it is to put one of those on when you’re all wet and completely naked?”

Smuffy caught my eye, which showed no sympathy, rather telling him he got what he deserved.  He continued, growing pinker, yet displaying a hint of amusement.

“The longer it took me to get that suit on, the louder the guys howled with laughter.  They didn’t even bother to help and I was starting to get just a little ticked off.  I mean, it couldn’t be that funny!  That’s when I heard the cheering.”

To Smuffy’s horror, he lifted his gaze beyond the task at hand to find a pleasure craft had pulled up nearby to watch the show.  All its occupants, both male and female, were lined up along the railings and waving and calling as if they’d boarded the Love Boat and left their loved ones on shore.  Whistles wafted over the waves and suggestive comments, somewhat muffled by applause, came from those who were not waving their drinks at him in salute.

I’d had no desire to go along that day, but I felt a little disadvantaged for having missed it.

Smuffy learned two things that day.  Firstly, that the willpower that surges within him when he’s on dry land actually does evaporate once he’s on water.  Secondly, that there are certain things that if they must happen, it is better that they happen in front of total strangers.  If this had happened in front of people he knew, poor Smuffy might still be somewhere in a closet…and muttering to himself, in between appointments with his therapist, that this is the end.

Little did we know that Smuffy had only begun to peel.  He’d merely worked himself up for things to come.  He would, again, treat some onlookers to a vision they hadn’t expected, only next time the spectators would be sober.

Stay tuned for “Smuffy Takes it Off AGAIN”.

My Life With Smuffy is always exciting.  Read about our Smokin’ Hot Honeymoon.  You’ll find, in Smuffy Takes the Cure that I did try intervention.  Try his river adventures here and here for the white-knuckle type of adventure.  Even on dry land, he tends to get himself into situations, so check that out here.

Enjoying my true tales of life with Smuffy?  I’d love to know which one has been your favorite so far, so please do share in the comments!