Friday, August 31, 2012

The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Thing

I almost didn’t write this, because well…. it’s gross and pretty random. But I have this friend. And if you know this friend, then you fully understand her sense of humor and why she would deem this “blog worthy” and if you’d read her funny text messages regarding this ‘incident’ you would probably laugh. Actually if you’d read the texts coming from several of my friends while this occurred you might’ve wet your pants. It was a close call for me. 

I shared this story with my BFF as she was lost in a scary part of Chicago, where she was relatively certain she’d just seen a child prostitute. We struggled to determine which experience was worse. (No, not really, all you unfunny people) There are no pictures of this experience, just words. You’ll just have to forgive me/thank me later. That said….

We had a good weekend. Tommy had to work a lot, but I enjoyed a lot of time with Abi Kate, just the two of us. Sunday was busy and filled with church and then a visit to Mimi and Papa’s house that evening (though really, the cats are giving you guys a run for your money in terms of whose most important…). I was going to the zoo early the next morning with one of my best friends and her little girls. My gas light had come on as we’d driven to my parents’ from church that night. I went back and forth about stopping for gas because I was tired. I just wanted to go home and put on comfy clothes and lay on the couch. But, at the last minute, I figured it would save me time in the morning (in which I would SURELY be rushed). So, I pulled into the gas station about a mile down from our house. This. Was. A. Mistake.

I pulled into Pump #1. Another mistake. Tommy ran in to get a drink and to pay for gas, saying he’d be right back to pump. I said, “No. I can pump gas. I’ll just use the debit card. It’ll be faster that way. Don’t worry about it.” Third mistake. So he runs in and I hop out. As I make my way over to the card swiper, I get the sense of something out of the corner of my eye. And dear LORD I’m so glad I caught it. I look down and my foot is literally an inch away from a brown pile of mush. I think, “Nooo. That can’t be….” And look beside it to see another pile. And sweet Lord in heaven why did I begin to bend down to make sure I was looking at what I thought I was?!?! (I made SO many mistakes this night but this might’ve been my worst). And well, let’s just say I come face to face with human excrement at least three times a day, courtesy of the toddler in my house. And there was NO DOUBT what this was. Except, this was no kid poop. Oh no. And as I looked a little further down, what did I see, but a wipe… what looked to be an Armor-All wipe. I think I screamed something like, “OH MY SOUL! Savages!!!!” and flew back into my car. I am unashamed to admit that I silently hoped that the chemicals from that wipe were tearing up the culprit’s rear end… I literally tore into another spot as fast as I could, hoping that Abi Kate wasn’t scarred for life (like I am now). I was so befuddled that I pulled into a spot with my gas tank on the other side. This was about the time that Tommy strolled back outside…. And was like, “Honey, what are you doing? That’s not going to work.” I’m relatively certain I screamed, “SOMEONE TOOK A DUMPAT THE PUMP!”  I know I looked like I was in complete hysterics. It is because I was. In the moment I felt like we were having this odd communication failure. Like he wasn’t quite understanding the severity of this.  He was so chill at about the whole thing. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to poop wherever. On The Ground. In Public. WHERE PEOPLE (namely me!) STEP! And God love his heart because his first response besides just plain calm was, “You didn’t step in it did you?” (Because God is a gracious God, I did not step in that terrible horrible no good very bad thing. I do not care how much I love those Yellow Box flip flops. They would’ve been in the trash faster than a flea on a dog.) Tommy is still being calm and cavalier about this and I really just think it’s because he didn’t have to see/smell the very bad thing. There are some things you just can’t come back from-- like being face to face with a stranger’s dump. I told him he had to go inside and tell the gas station attendant, and he was like “Nah. It’s ok. It’ll just go away.” WHAT?!  Trust me. I do poop all day. It doesn’t just go away. Anyway, he went on inside to talk to this man. And honestly, there is an entire back story about this particular gas station and particular station attendant that involves our first married Thanksgiving together and an uncomfortable holiday invitation, but I will skip all of that. And also please know that I am not even slightly aiming to be politically correct here, so if my geographical clumping offends you, feel free to go drive to Pump #1 and I promise the sight there will offend you wwwaaayy more than my stereotypical language. The attendant is Middle Eastern and doesn’t speak great English. Tommy walked in and told him, “Dude. Somebody took a dump at pump #1” to which this man replies smiling, “Oh yes. This good? Yeah?” Clearly, friend is NOT getting the picture. Tommy’s reponse, “No. Not good. Took. A. Dump” as he mimicks pulling down his pants… (This alone kept me laughing for a good hour). Meanwhile, I am texting this entire scenario to 3 friends and every one of them said the same thing at first, “OMG! WHO WOULD DO THAT?!” Who indeed.

We drove home and it became slightly less mortifying and more funny. Slightly.

 We put Abi Kate in some jammies, and she took off running to her new favorite place (I’d like to suggest that it is her "safe place" and she was recovering just like her Momma from the terrible horrible no good very bad thing. I cannot be the only one scarred from this). She loves hiding behind her glider and reading books. We told her she could have 5 minutes to read, and I went to our bedroom to change into my comfy clothes. I mean really, that’s all I wanted ALL ALONG. I turned on the monitor out of habit and what do I hear, but her reading this story to herself. “Oh No! Blue!” If you’ve read Pete the Cat: I Love My White Shoes, you’ll understand…

I snuck in to watch her… and felt slightly redeemed. Like maybe the poo was just a bad dream….

All’s well that ends well, right?!

 Please note that my gas light came on this morning as I was driving down the same road. I weighed my options. As I passed the scary place where “it” happened, I glanced at pump #1. There. Are. Stains. Oh yes. I may never be the same again. 

No comments:

Post a Comment