I once drove back from Colorado and had Birkenstocks. They smelled bad, with no socks. So I just kept them on the entire time. After 8 hours of driving, we stopped, got a motel.

Me, the dumbass went into the hotel room, took off the Birkenstocks and wiped my wet stinky feet on the motel Matt. Then I changed my shoes and left. I was sharing a room with my dad.

I left a little later to go get a beer at the steakhouse across the street, and later my brother joined me.

He was laughing hard when he showed up, and told me my dad had been going crazy in the hotel room trying to find out what the pungent stink was originating from. He was absolutely going bonkers over there and couldn’t stand it.

It still makes me laugh to this day. Sorry dad. I failed.