It’s Steve’s birthday week and I’m reminded of what a good sport he always is! Take for example back in 2004 when the girls and I really wanted to go to Washington state and rent a recreational vehicle. After two such previous vacations, another RV trip didn't register high on Steve’s ‘fun’ scale, but coax him into it we did. One day he found a spot that he thought looked good to pull the 26 foot beast over on the side of the road so the kids could swim in a beautiful, deep, seemingly pristine lake—until he spotted a 'NO SWIMMING' sign saying there was a suspected dead body in the H2O. Without telling the girls why we hustled them out of the water, Alana, who was 12, bent over, picked something up off the beach and smiled. “Look! Someone must have had a picnic! I found a chicken bone!” eeeuuuggghhhh.
Later in the week Steve attached the sewage hose to the RV, cranked it open just as he remembered that he hadn’t put the other end into the septic hole in the ground…While cleaning up the putrid mess, he leaned forward singeing his hair on the hot water heater exhaust. Along with a crowd of other folks, he went to check in at our next campground unshaven, sweaty, with melted hair, and smelling like you-know-what and, frankly, no one in the RV community seemed to think he wasn’t just one of the guys.
Isn’t he sweet?! ©2011, Jana B. Patrick
No comments:
Post a Comment