You know kids. They are some of the most free-spirited, care-free people that you will ever meet in this old world.
And believe me when I say that I have three kids that certainly fit the bill. Primarily my youngest, Skyler, who will be turning six years old tomorrow *cries*.
Skyler had decided that last night, Dad's surprise trip to the McDonald's that has a play area was her "Birthday Dinner" (we each get to choose to eat where we wish to for our birthday). So be it. No biggie there.
As Skyler and I sat together in the two-person booth (by her request), while Bryce (her big brother) and Scott (my husband) sat at the table adjacent to us near the middle of the aisle, Skyler and I began a conversation that she started.
The very first thing out of my (soon to be) six year old's mouth is, "Mama, can I drive when I'm ten?". Quickly I replied that driving will not be a skill she will learn until she is sixteen, so she has another ten years to go. To which she stated that this time frame would take "forever".
But then without missing a beat, and with such a straight face, that she would be an awesome Poker player one day, Skyler suddenly blurts out, "Can I have a baby when I'm SIXTEEN?".
I swear that the crickets started chirping. And the look on my face I'm certain was beyond priceless. And in that brief moment, I honestly had the "chew it over with Twix" dude pop in my head with that freaking slogan.
After the shock of hearing that question, I (in what seemed like an eternity) suddenly shot back with, "No! Not until you are AT LEAST eighteen. That's the safety rule".
The gloomiest look came upon her face. And in the aftermath, I honestly had to bite my tongue as to be able to keep a straight face and not laugh manically at what just happened.
Well folks, it doesn't stop there, though. Later on after getting home, I decided to lay on the couch with my (old school) Walkman listening to all kinds of different tunes.
I'd turned to one station where the DJ was talking live to a little boy of maybe ten to twelve years old that had called in with embarrassing stories. And boy dandy was it a good one!
He said that one evening, his mom and he were out doing some Christmas shopping, and in the midst of it all, stopped and bought a couple of Chocolate Ice Cream cones. Afterward, they got back on road along the Interstate.
Suddenly, she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. And I'm not talking tinkling here, people. This woman had to G-O! So, she pulls off the Interstate and goes to (of all places) Kroger (my husband works for the grocery chain).
The little boy says that after getting to the parking lot, his mother jumps out and makes a beeline for Kroger's front doors, only to turn right back around and get back in.
All she says to her son is...
Yes. Your assumption is correct. The woman crapped her pants. So they get back on the freeway and head the rest of the way home.
After listening to this hilarious story unfold, it suddenly sprang to mind of the time when I was about fourteen or fifteen, riding in the car with my dad. We were in fact on the way home from doing some errands. Suddenly, he had the urge to pass gas.
But he knew that if he were to do so, then there would be one hell of a mess to clean up. So, needless to say, being a man in true form, he held it in with all of his might.
But all the holding in the world, even at no more than five minutes away from our house, was going to do. Nope.
Instead, he unwillingly let one rip. And that was all that she wrote. And of course it HAD to be on a cold day where you don't want to roll the windows down.
Next thing I know, my dad is sitting in the driver's seat, squirming like a baby in a car carrier. Then the odor hits me like a slap in the face. I literally must have turned in to Kermit the Frog, because man did I feel ill. And hence, I had to freeze my ass off thanks to needing FRESH air.
I asked my father if he felt better. When I heard the word "no" I about wanted to smack him. That's when he let me know that sadly he didn't make it (at the two minute mark of almost being home). Next thing I know, I'm sitting there almost having an Asthma attack from laughing so hard, that I start crying streams of tears and trying my best to breath.
Every time that my dad asked me to stop, I would only laugh harder. When we got home, he rushed in and showered. I was the lucky sucker (and as my "punishment" according to him for laughing)that got to take his crap-filled, streaked undies (they just HAD TO BE tighty-whities that day) and pants out to the garage and prep them for washing.
To this day, once in a blue moon that memory will hit me and I will just burst out in laughter. Or it comes to me from hearing some other poor soul's tale of incontinence, like it did for me last night.
When my father is long gone, that will be one of the happiest, funniest and most embarrassing moments that I will cherish for the rest of my days. Right next to Skyler's outrageous baby question.
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What is written in this blog, is of the author's own originality. It contains the sole views, thoughts, and stories of this blog's author.