Another Chance Ranch

Another Mortifying Moment

Remember Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber?  Remember the bathroom scene where Lloyd had, umm, problems with the toilet flushing? 

There are only three differences in that story and mine.  I know this is kind of a gross post, but the whole time it was happening I thought to myself: 1) it is a good thing no one has a spy camera and 2) well, this will be a blog post.

When we arrived at Grandmother's house no one was there, which was a good thing.  I didn't want anyone ruining the surprise for McD and I needed to, ummm, go to the bathroom really bad.  It is a two hour drive from our house to Grandmother's and I was getting ripe.    The strange thing is that right before I went to the bathroom I had a strange thought.  I thought, Man I hope this toilet works today.  See, in the past she has had problems with this toilet flushing or just running all the time.  She must not have a very good plumber, because he never gets them fixed. 

I go the bathroom.  Take care of business, drop off a load, whatever you want to call it.  I felt so much better, until the toilet wouldn't flush.  I was so embarrassed and I hadn't even left the room yet.  I tried and tried to get the stupid green toilet to flush, but it wouldn't.   One of us had to be flushed, so it had to be me as I walked out of the bathroom.  I went to find McD to ask for help.  I was so embarrassed, even to tell McD.  I will go to the bathroom in front of him, but in 15 years I don't think I have ever pooped in front of him.  There I said it.  Poop, poop, poop.   I warned him right before we got the the green monster.  I said, "I can't get the toilet to flush, and I uh, uh, pooped.  It didn't even phase him.  So, he went to work on the toilet and he couldn't get it to flush.  So we left it to sit and fill up, but we shut the lid and put the back of the toilet lid on top of the seat in hopes no one would lift it up to see my waste filling the stool. 

Believe it or not, I kind of, sort of, forgot about it...until someone had to go to the bathroom.  But, McD was there to save me even more embarrassment.  He told them that it wouldn't flush and that they needed to go to the other bathroom.  Later he told me about it, and I was embarrassed all over again.  But then he told me that they probably thought it was him that had stopped up the stool.  Hee hee.

Now that I think about it, I don't know if he ever go the toilet to flush.  Oh crap!  :) 

Edited to add:

The 3 differences were: 1) I was not at a date's house, I didn't have the running poo poos, and my hair looked a lot better than his!

Stalked in Kmart

A few months after McD and I were married I was out doing my wifely duties by doing the dreaded shopping at Kmart.  I really didn't mind at all because I was still in the newlywed stage.  There weren't debit cards then so we wrote checks.  This meant that I was able to sign my newly acquired last name on my check.  Who doesn't love that when they are newlyweds?

As I walked into Kmart I grabbed a cart and started moseying through the aisles trying to remember what all I needed, because it seems like I always leave my list at home.  I love music and always have to stop in the department.  That is where I noticed the man following me around.  This isn't just your typical looking man.  This guy is a big black guy approximately 6'9", built like a brick wall and he is following me around. 

At first I decided to try to mosey faster.  It didn't work.  I was taking probably three steps to his one.  This man was big and he was scarying the pee out of me, or many it was a hiney cringe and I just didn't know it yet.  I couldn't shake him.  He wasn't coming to close but he was there every step of the way.  Aah ha!  I will go to the feminine products row, there is no way he will follow me down that aisle.  Yeah right!  He was right behind me and getting closer at this point.  Right then I decided that he really was after me.  Why would a man follow me down this aisle?  Why is he lurking behind me?  Why ME?!? 

At this point I went to the cashier, only there was a line.  There is always a line!  Why have ten registers when you only use two?!  I am standing in line with ideas running through my head on exactly how I am going to signal the lady at the register that I am being followed by this really big man.  He isn't directly behind me, there were two people between us.  I started handing my items to the lady, trying to decide on the best signal, when all of a sudden I hear someone yell my new last name.  It came from his direction, but how would he know my name.  I slowly turned to see who actually said it.  I am sure my eyes were as big as half dollars.  When I looked up at him, he was grinning from ear to ear and then he said, "Tell Coach hi!" 

WHAT THE CRAP!?  Here I thought I was going to die and he just wanted me to say hello to McD aka Coach. 

Monday, when we got seated at the funeral, I noticed a really, really big black guy sitting with the pallbearers.  He turned slightly in the pew to see some people coming in, and I saw him.  I nudged McD and asked him if that was the same guy that had stalked me in Kmart, and it was.  He has grown up to be a very nice looking man.  Back when he stalked me, he had a lot of hair, now he is bald and you know me and bald guys.  Then when we got in line to offer our condolences to the family he little brother was in front of us.  He is the little one of the family standing at probably 6'5" or 6'6". They have always been great boys and it was really nice to see them again.  We were able to catch up with him a little, but his brother was busy with his duties as pallbearer so I wasn't able to ask him if he remembered stalking me in Kmart.

A Christmas Without Presents

Sounds like a line right out of "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas."  But that is what I heard my mother say one year at Christmas.  I honestly don't remember how old I was, either 11 or 12.  I don't remember a lot about that Christmas after the gifts were taken away.  But I do remember this...I didn't do it.

My sister and I had a friend sleeping over that night.  Her name is Lisa and she was our next door neighbor for several years.  We were all in bed and they started talking about opening the gifts that were under the tree.  I told them that they would get caught.  My mom is a very light sleeper so I just knew she would hear them opening the gifts.  Lisa had this bright idea that we would use butter knives to open the gifts and then tape them back up. 

First my sister headed down the hall, through the livingroom and into the kitchen to "get a drink," but was actually just making noise so Lisa could grab a gift.  Before leaving the kitchen, my sister grabbed a butter knife from the silverware drawer.  Then we all met in the bathroom, and turned on the overhead heater.

Next Lisa began cutting into each gift.  She had to have done it before because she was good at it.  My sister and I were to retape the packages.  She would hold the paper right where it needed to be and I taped it back.  I did not want anything to do with opening them, but I just knew if I helped put them back together I wouldn't get into near as much trouble.  What was I thinking?

After all the gifts had been opened, re-packaged, and placed back under the tree we all headed to bed dreaming of opening all of the gifts again on Christmas morning.  The next day my sister and I discussed how we had to act completely surprised when we opened the gifts Christmas morning.  We were set and then...

Mom told us we were opening our presents early.  There wasn't really an explanation why, but we were pumped.  We all gathered in the livingroom around the tree and opened all of our presents.  Our performances were stellar, or so we thought.  After our big performance mom asked us if we liked our gifts and we told her we did.  Then she told us to get ready to go to town because we were taking them all back to the store.  WHAT?!?!?  She proceeded to tell us that she knew we had opened them and re-wrapped them, but she wouldn't tell us how she knew.  All of a sudden my sister starts crying and telling my mom that it was all my idea.  I tried to defend myself by telling her it was not my idea, and that I only helped re-tape things so we wouldn't get in trouble.  I was against it the whole time.  Did that help any?  No!  We all got ready, put our coats on and took back each and every present we had under the tree.   

You would think that would be punishment enough.  Nope.  Then mom told everyone she saw what we had done and what she did to punish us.  We never opened gifts early again.  We learned our lesson.

Fast forward approximate 20 years. 

One evening McD and I met my sister and her family at a restaurant to celebrate my brother-in-laws birthday.  We walked in and as we were being seated we saw one of our oldest friends and his family.  Since I had moved away I hadn't seen his kids since they were tiny so I went to see them.  He introduced me to them and then said, "Do you remember me telling you about the little girls that opened their presents early and had to take them back to the stores?  These are the girls."  Will the punishment never end?  I thanked Troy very politely for sharing the best possible story about me with his kids and left.  I couldn't go far, our booth was right next to theirs so we got to hear the story all over again. 

90 Year Old Talks About Sex

McDreamy's Grandmother is turning 90 either today or Wednesday. He doesn't know for sure which day. But I feel okay about posting this because she'll never read it. One of her grandsons asked her if she had the internet and she told us how she just doesn't watch television enough to have it. She watches the news once a day and that is about it. I think she watches Dr. Phil and Oprah too, but she didn't offer that info. So she will never know we don't know when it is.

She reads. She loves Romance novels! And she will read a book in just a few days. I also love to read so each year we get her a new book for her birthday, and Christmas, and any other reason we can find. She LOVES them. And Bonus, she always sends them back to me to read. Sometimes I read them. Sometimes I don't.

She also reads magazines. Star magazine. You know all the magazines that you read while you are checking out at the store but never actually pick up. Or buy. She buys them. Every. Week.

We were all getting together to see our kids and grandkids. They live in Colorado and don't get to come home too often. So the whole family was getting together. McD and I arrived first. That won't happen again. We are sitting there visiting when she tells me I just have to see the article she found in her magazine. Just HAVE too!

I do not know what to expect because this was out of the ordinary. But nothing is ordinary with her. She flips through the pages. Finds the article. Hands it to me. Then she sits back and starts telling me all about it, as I am trying to read it.

I wish I could remember the name of the article. Or the name of the SEXUAL ENHANCING Pill she thought McD, her grandson, might need. She goes on and on about how men can have multiples. I think she had the whole one page advertisement memorized. I tried to focus on the magazine. I couldn't read it. I was about to die. McD is sitting right there next to me. Oh. But when she started talking about the multiples for men, he got up and excused himself. Thanks! I had to sit there and have a 10 minute conversation about sex with his Grandmother. Not. Good. She even wanted me to tear out the page and take it home with me to check it out. I told her tearing out the internet address would be enough.

I did go to the website. You don't know this lady. I just knew she would ask me about it later. But she didn't. I wrote down all the prices. She had inquired about the price during our 10 minutes of Hell conversation. McD stops to see her almost once a week, so I sent the information with him. Just in case. She hasn't asked about it or mentioned it since. But I am the only one that she ever brought it up to. I must be special. Or do you think it is because McD is 14 years older than me? Maybe she thinks he needs help in that area. Believe me. She would be the last person I would talk to about it.

Well, Grandmother is turning 90 this week. She still drives. God help us!! Takes care of her cattle. Does her lawn work, etc. She is the sharpest knife in the drawer. She is beautiful, really beautiful. I hope I look half as good as she does when I am her age. She calls me her granddaughter, although I just married into that circus. And I love her. She is one special lady. I hope she has a very Happy Birthday. Which ever day it is.

Mortifying Moment

With the U.S. Open ending yesterday I thought I would toss out my mortifying golf experience. 

Many years ago, more than ten, McDreamy and I along with some friends had taken to playing golf.  Basically, we chased that stupid little white ball.  But we practiced at the driving range quite often.  Had even gotten a little better.  And then...

Then one evening our friends called wanting to go to the driving range.  Sure.  We'd love to.  When we arrived there were only a few other people there.  We all got our balls, lined up and started driving that stupid little white ball.  If you've never been to a driving range here is how it is set up.  There is a long row of golf bag rests about 15 feet or so apart.  Or that is how it is here. 

We are talking and laughing. Having a good time.  When I pull out a driver and tee up.  When my club hit the ball something went terribly wrong.  Really.  Really.  Wrong.  It did not go straight out into the range.  It went straight up the person's butt that was standing in front of me.  I can still picture it to this day.  We had no idea who he was.  He grabbed his hiney.  I hit the ground howling with laughter.  Trying to apologize all at the same time.  Everyone else in my party was laughing.  We were in tears we were laughing so hard.  Oh the poor guy.  He kept a hold of his hiney.  Packed up his stuff and got the you know what out of Dodge. 

Needless to say...no one would ever stand in front of me again at the range.  Now.  I just don't go.