Yesterday morning it snowed in St. George. After a few endless hours of Spongebob Squarepants, we packed up and left. We made good time for driving in a snow storm. We stopped at an awful greasy spoon for dinner and were within 20 miles of our house when we saw the first trooper with lights spinning. My natural reaction is to wonder if they found out what I did in 1985 and make a run for it. Not a good idea in a minivan with five innocent people in it. It whizzed past. The next patrol followed within minutes. My blood pressure was starting to normalize and an intelligent person would have figured out there was trouble ahead when the fire truck overtook us. But, no, we were making good time! We'd be home before anybody had a chance to say those five dreaded words.
When I finally realized my "making good time" was coming to an end, it was too late. We were three miles from our exit when I-15 turned into a parking lot. More emergency vehicles screamed past us and we realized they'd closed the road for life flight to land. Another 20 minutes ticked by before the dreaded words were uttered: I need to go potty.
With nothing but time on our hands and a vast audience of onlookers, I gathered up the wiggling child and we went roadside. He was reticent and I was nervous as I helped him aim and watched for oncoming dangers. The squeals of glee and gales of giggles were my payment for taking my little guy out for a potty break. He discovered how far he could shoot and how he could melt snow. Something tells me that may be the beginning of a lifelong hobby.
Apparently, there were many, many others who enjoyed the show. You are welcome.
This morning we awoke to sounds of a snow plow and no less than 6 inches of snow.
Al Gore: You're so wrong.
When I finally realized my "making good time" was coming to an end, it was too late. We were three miles from our exit when I-15 turned into a parking lot. More emergency vehicles screamed past us and we realized they'd closed the road for life flight to land. Another 20 minutes ticked by before the dreaded words were uttered: I need to go potty.
With nothing but time on our hands and a vast audience of onlookers, I gathered up the wiggling child and we went roadside. He was reticent and I was nervous as I helped him aim and watched for oncoming dangers. The squeals of glee and gales of giggles were my payment for taking my little guy out for a potty break. He discovered how far he could shoot and how he could melt snow. Something tells me that may be the beginning of a lifelong hobby.
Apparently, there were many, many others who enjoyed the show. You are welcome.
This morning we awoke to sounds of a snow plow and no less than 6 inches of snow.
Al Gore: You're so wrong.
I love the way you explain what happened! I wanted to tell you that Traegan REFUSED to be potty trained until the week before he turned 4 when Grandma told him he could go pee outside while we were on vacation at her house. The rest of the time spent at grandma's house Traegan took advantage of it! He never pooped outside (thank goodness) but he didn't poop in the toilet either. Anyway, even after we got home he would only go pee outside. My neighbor does daycare and there is only a chain-link fence between our yard so I had to apologize to her for what her day-care kids were seeing. Lol...
ReplyDeleteI was so confused at first. Do you have 2 blogs? Ah...no. This is an old post! Gotcha. So glad you told me where to find it- too funny!
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