Remember that song? Jim Croce sang it, I believe.
It came to pass yesterday as I was washing the Denali. One of the options at the carwash is a foaming brush, which spits out this blue foam that you can use to scrub the mud and grime off. I turned it on, and waited--nothing happened. Then I saw big gobs of blue foam raining from the sky, plopping onto the car and the ground around me. They looked like, forgive me, big blue cow pies.
I looked up to see what was going on. I saw two things. 1) A split in the hose at the top was responsible for the foam escaping there and not through the brush. 2) A big blue plop coming right at me. I closed my eyes in time, but caught it on the forehead. It left a stain, which is still lightly visible today. Fortunately, no one at church asked me about it. I hate to talk about being plopped on. Its embarrassing.