Leave it to me. God Almighty, if I can step right into something ... I will.

During part of our trip, leaving Yellowstone, we drove nine hours to get to Estes Park. By the time we pulled into the inn and got settled in for the night, it was around 1 a.m. We probably would have made it in sooner but we kept getting sidetracked by the views on the way.

The day before that, while in Yellowstone, we had done a ten mile hike with a steady climb reaching 10,336 feet up to the top of a mountain which had a fire lookout tower. Between the hike and the long drive, I was dog tired.

Mark woke up before me and left to go finish checking into the inn and to pick up some breakfast. I opted to go back to sleep.

So, I’d happily drifted back into La La Land. Later, I hear him knock on the door ... twice. He’s got breakfast.

I pull myself out of bed, walk over and open the door wide. My brain however was fully intent on getting back under the warm comfy blanket. I didn’t even glance at him. By the time I get to the edge of the bed, I become aware that he is still standing in the doorway. What’s going on?

I turn to look and the silhouette in the doorway is not a man. It’s not Mark. It’s a woman. A complete stranger.

I let out a high pitched squeal while simultaneously dunking down beside the bed and yanking the covers to me. Diving into the bed and covering all the way up to my nose, I get a better look at her. She is an employee of the inn. Housekeeping.

The poor young woman is standing in shock with her mouth open looking back at me. She is frozen. She didn’t know what to do.

I’m mortified and choke out, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She’s Hispanic and saying in broken english, ”it’s ok, it’s ok.”

I had answered the door in my birthday suit and had walked away like it was nothing. I’m fairly sure I traumatized that poor woman’s eyeballs and sensibilities.

Then, this brave lady stepped right into the room and went into the bathroom and started to clean it. It was surreal. I’m so rattled I can’t think straight.

I’m under the covers, mortified. Worse… I can’t stop laughing because it’s just so bloody awful. I also can’t seem to stop apologizing. I hear her in the bathroom every once in a while quietly laughing. Boy, does she have a story to tell when she gets home.

What a way to start a morning.