Every family has them...
They are the stories that get repeated around the Thanksgiving table year after year. They are legend. I really can't explain why we tell them over and over again. It's not like everyone at the table doesn't already know how they end. And yet we do it. This is how all legends get passed down. Our family is no exception.
A fellow blogmiester was telling how her daughter was ralphing on the side of the highway on a family trip and with a little encouragement from my sister, I was inspired to tell my own family's version of this one.
It was a beautiful Tennessee summer day... before the leaves begin to melt. At the time we were members of a small but close knit church group which has since moved on to the four corners of the earth. Our little church group decided to take a group "vacation" over to Eureka Springs to see the passion play and to visit the replica of the tabernacle that is there. We were so excited that we were willing to drag along our very young baby girl...just six weeks old.
The year was 1993 and my son was just short of his fourth birthday. We met at the church early that morning to caravan to our destination. Now, I really should insert here that my father in law had been the pastor of our little congregation for several years before he retired. So, as we met with our new pastor to pray together in the front yard of the parsonage my son disappeared for a short while. I was not really too worried since he had basically grown up at this home away from home for most of his short life. When our little prayer meeting was over, I went in search of him only to find that he had dropped trow and was backed up pooping on a tree. Not sure who taught him this little trick, but there really is such a thing as being too comfortable, if you know what I mean. This is how the day began... I should have known right then and there to turn around and go home.
As we travelled from West Tennessee thru the Ozarks mountains of Arkansas, we took the scenic route... You know, the one that basically follows the EDGE of the mountains and WINDS up the steeps. I was turning several shades of green and I was in the front seat. Four year old was barfing in a bowl in the back... baby sleeping, thank goodness.
On the way home, someone (not mentioning names here; see post on gossip) offered Dramamine for the the four year old. She had been helpful in the past with medical advice so I didn't even blink an eye when she said, "here, give him this". I gave him that. Four hours later, we stopped at a Exxon to get some more. I didn't bother to read the directions because "she" had already told me how much and how often to give... oops.
First dose bought me a really nice nap... second dose a coma and explosive diarrhea. David and I were driving along, enjoying the quiet when the--- dare I say--- godawfulest smell drifted forward from the backseat. Imagine with me... shouting into the CB (no cell phones back then), "mayday, mayday... WE HAVE DIARRHEA!!!". Hubby screeches into the gravel on the shoulder, dust flying everywhere. Don't forget, now, we are in a caravan of half a dozen or so cars all dodging the debris in one motion like synchronized swimmers. Car finally comes to a complete stop, I open the front door, snatch the four year old out of the backseat, strip him naked (leaving his caca filled underoos in the ditch), bathe him with wipees, and redress him while hubby undefiles (is that a word?) the back seat. HE DID NOT WAKE UP THE WHOLE TIME.
Fortunately, we had our resident nerdy Amway salesman with us who gave us an odor neutralizing "air freshener" to hang over the a/c vents. The smell was so strong the the rest of the way home we had to keep the air on full blast to keep it from wafting to the front seats. A couple of hours later four year old finally wakes up, leans over my shoulder and says, "what's that poopy smell?"
Lesson: READ THE DIRECTIONS ON ALL MEDICATIONS
Hubby likes to finish this story by mentioning that we left the poopy underwear in Clinton, AR... you can draw your own conclusions about the humor of that:)