One Funny Story

Jamie put out a challenge to the OCers to write about something funny that happened (her story is funny as hell and is a MUST read). This was spurred by that "nutty" observational story written by Chris who for some odd reason broke the invisible horizon that all men should keep while in the locker room (his too is gut busting funny as hell).

My story is both funny yet so heart wrenching.....

The family and I went on a cruise and one of the stops was in Tortola (part of the British Virgin Islands). We disembarked the ship with the intention of doing a bit of souvenir shopping and afterward, buy some sunscreen for our trip to the beach.

We all picked out a trinket while Brendon picked out two posters giving the locations of buried treasures. One was for him and the other for his friend who's birthday party he had missed because we were on the cruise.

With our treasures in hand, we ventured along the street looking for a store that sold sunscreen. We started walking toward a row of stores and immediately after stepping on the patio of the storefronts, I looked down and saw a big dog turd. I called out to everyone "Watch out for the dog poop. It's right there", as I pointed it out clear as day for everyone to see.

All of a sudden I hear "Bren, LOOK OUT!" and as I turned, I saw Brendon spread eagled face down on the patio with one arm folded around his poster and the other stetched out to his side with his entire hand placed over the turd squashing it between his fingers. The poor kid tripped on the lip of the patio slab and by divine intervention, his hand made one with the poop.

Being the compassionate mother I am, I asked if he was OK and then I laughed. He looked bewildered and disgusted and had his hand poised near his shirt ready to wipe. Jeff and I screamed "Don't wipe it on your shirt!"

The poor kid didn't know what to do sitting there, so we told him to wipe his hand on the grass and then took him into an internet cafe to go to the bathroom to wash up.

Soap and water wasn't enough for me, so once he got the big stuff off, I pulled out some alcohol wipes from his glucose kit case and vigorously wiped his hand clean.

He wouldn't touch anything with that hand until we made it to the beach after more hand washing and after he had soaked in the ocean for a good half hour.

As a mother, it broke my heart to see him look so helpless and disgusted, but being who I am, I still laugh myself into hysterics when I think of him spread eagled with his hand smack dab on the poop.

*I've amended the story slightly to account for the awkward description and the inordinate amount of exclamation marks ;)