The Turd
Not happy. Let me tell you why. Being a total fool, I decided to organize a party for 20 figure skaters, an outing which would require me and one other fool (my favorite skate mom, Mark) to spend our entire Saturday at an amusement park. Preparing to Chaperone squealy girls whose ages range 7 thru 18 took some planning. We had this thing organized, every fine detail, fire drills and all. I even put together a little girly emergency box of tampax, extra pair of shorts, and gum (incase one of them became a woman during my shift, or a fit of laughter made one pee, and something to stuff the inevitable gabby gab). The items I packed for myself are classified because they could give me five.
We had everything ready. And then the storm hit. Winter returned with a vengeance. Obviously this party had to be cancelled. So cancel we did. Unfortunately not much stacked up to the original plan of going to an amusement park. As I am sure you know, kids will ride the roller coaster rain or shine, canceling such an event in their minds is only necessary if there is a funeral to attend, and even then they would be pumped and ready to hit the coaster after giving condolences. Telling these kids “no amusement park” was like telling them they had to skip their birthday and wait another whole year to get their drivers license. I mean it nearly seemed as serious, “Like, I’m so sure!”
Needless to say the skaters were picketing my house with a furious protest. Worried there would be blood shed, I quickly made other arrangements for a plan B. Drum roll please…Plan B will be: a really super-d-duper 2 hours at Color Me Mine, a nifty little ceramic place all can go for barrels of crafty fun.
Let’s just say the response was less than enthusiastic, but still it was something to do during this winter blizzard in May. I ran all around the town gathering up supplies for “Plan B”. My fifth stop was at a grocery store to get food items and treats. While loading my last item on the conveyer belt, I noticed the check-out lady was bleeding, and bleeding BAD from a large open wound. There was a bloody saturated paper towel placed next to the scanner. After blotting her wound with the paper towel, she would then handle my food items. I nearly went postal. Then reconsidered, why go postal, when I can GO APE! There literally was blood on my lettuce, and the box of candy had blood smeared across it. With my eyes glazed solid black, I stormed to the customer service counter and pulled out my weapon of choice - a satanic mother-bear type voice. My hot and heated echo fried the service lady’s eyebrows right off her face. I went on and on about how ridiculous this situation was, and reminded them that in today’s day and age we all need to be careful and considerate in regards to bodily fluids, AND how absurd it was that I was here in this store purchasing food from someone with blood dripping down her fingers… Let me stop myself, and spare you the gory details. Nobody was fired, they treated me well, and none of this ended up on the nightly news. However, if I had a torch I would have burned the damn store down to give it a proper cleanse.
After the protest, the running around, the everyday mommy stuff, blizzard, and preparations for plan B, one thing needed to go smooth and that one thing needed to be the next 20 minutes I had left to get myself ready for painting pottery with 20 angry figure skaters, whom currently hated my guts.
Without a second to spare I dashed to my room to get ready, and saw this:
HOLLY CRAP!!!!!! GUUUUUUCCCCIIIIIIII!
GUCCI! Where are you, Damn dog, POOOOOPS POOOOOOPS, damn dog. POOOOOPS, POOOOOOPS, Damn damn dog…..POTTY OUT SIDE! POTTY OUTSIDE!!!!!
DAMMMMMMNNNNN YOUUUUU, DOG, you damn damn doooooog. POOOOOOOOPS!!
Gucci cowered towards me, completely slumped with her little tail between her legs. I honestly could have drop-kicked her off the balcony. I grabbed her and took her over to the turd “What’s this? What is this??? BAD DOG, POTTY OUT SI…what the?? What? Huh? Leaning closer to the turd I notice it had a little face and tail. Oh, I sooo totally suck. Realizing what I’m looking at, my entire family has entered the room and is watching me among all the fuss. Sass is wanting to know if she can change her clothes for the party, Sessy is about to melt down over all the yelling, Travis has arrived with a whole roll of paper towels, and little Gucci is about to commit suicide. Just as I started to explain, little man picked up the turd and put it in his mouth.
Good thing the turd turned out to be a little brown rubber seal. Come on you have to admit, it looks like a turd. Funny thing is the seal was on the ground again today, and I had the same jolting reaction to it, without all the yelling of course.
Gucci is fine, and has forgiven me. Only half of the skaters showed up at Color me Mine, and I survived without needing to break out my little box of confidentials.
Phew…
One Response to “The Turd”
May 12th, 2007 at 1:24 pm
That seal is ALL TURD.
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