Friday, July 04, 2008

A series of unfortunate holiday events

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I'm taking the day off. Please enjoy this story from July 4, 2006.

We had an Independence Day picnic with Guinness World Record holder Ivan Zoot and family. His wife Susan teased me that my family always brings odd, healthy items to our annual feast (I think I made quinoa salad last year or something), so this year I surprised her by bringing a variety of crap—including (drum roll) canned cheese! This quickly lost its novelty with the boys, but was not truly unfortunate.

No, the bad stuff happened after dinner. As I posed for a picture wearing the goofy “3D” glasses handed out by the Park District and my also goofy “Proud to be from this town” t-shirt, I removed my real and very necessary glasses and placed them DH’s lap. But then I had him stand up to take the picture and they fell to the ground and he crushed them.

I had an emergency back-up pair in the car; a pair from the late 1980s. Have you noticed the trend toward smaller frames since then?

Just as the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared and the fireworks were about to begin, Pikachu announced he felt like throwing up. I think his dinner consisted of potato chips, Lik-a-stick candy, apple pie, cookies, and canned cheese, so it was understandable.

We made our way through the crowd in the dark to a garbage can where we hunkered down for few minutes. After producing a large yawn, thankfully not of the Technicolor kind, he said the sick feeling went down his throat and was more in his tummy.

"I have to poop."

We made our way across the now even darker and more crowded field to the portable toilets. I wondered just how this was going to work, but at least we had our glow sticks to light up the port-o-potty or "Drop Zone" as these units were branded. I give users of these little huts the same advice they give tightrope walkers- it's fine as long as you don't look down. Turns out I didn't need my advice because the line was impossibly long over at the Drop Zone.

As I pondered our fate, DH came over and offered to whisk the littel guy home. His tummy was bothering him so much that he willingly gave up his chance to watch fireworks. Smartypants and I, along with our friends, oohed and ahhhed over the display. Actually, the adults did that and the boys kept a running commentary comparing the display to meteor showers and the like.

Unfortunately, Splinter missed the big show, but at least got to witness our own little Coke and Mentos explosions (yes, it really does work!!).

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