Hey y'all - it's time again to share those amazing/outrageous/miraculous and almost too-good-to-be-true stories!Just grab the button from the sidebar and link up an old or new post and share your tale!
I know this week is Mr. Daddy's turn... however, the man still has muddy jeans and boots on and looks tireder than heck (Is tireder is a word? Go away red squigglies!)So I hope to talk him into taking two turns next. Hope y'all can stick with me anyway this week :)FOOL'S GOLD

When I was 10 years old, we had just moved from California to the lovely wet Northwest. I was friendless, tanless, and missing Cali something fierce.
The next summer, my mom let me tag along back to the sunshine to go to our former church's youth camp. She was a sign language interpreter and counselor for several deaf teens.
This was no ordinary church, and no ordinary camp. Simply put, it was HUGE.
There were hundreds of teenagers; and being as I was a wee bit underaged, I became somewhat of an informal little sister mascot.
There were several infamous events during the week...
The Talent Show in which the youth pastor was forcefed baby food
War (the genders in an epic battle that included water, mud, eggs and tomatoes)
The Firing Squad where rule-breakers were covered in Hershey's syrup and flour
and my favorite... Cowboys and Indians.
All the games were fun, but this one was played at night.
Which held a delicious thrill for an 11-year old who got to pretend she was a big kid.
Basic rules... the Indians had stolen bags of gold from the Cowboys. They hid the gold, then hid themselves in the woods around the huge central field. They wore armbands that earned the Cowboys points if captured.
Did I mention this is at night???
As the Indian Princesses all tied on their armbands and slipped into the trees, someone had the brilliant idea that the little Indian Mascot could make a good distraction for the gold's location.
Sound good?
What this actually translated into, was placing a bag of gold in one of the garbage cans in the field... then sticking me atop it and replacing the lid. Assuming that if a Cowboy actually checked the garbage can, he'd be so startled by my appearance that he'd miss the gold.
Like I said... sounded good in theory.
So here I am, sitting in a smelly humid garbage can, atop a lumpy bag of burlap - waiting for the game to begin.
And I am TOTALLY PSYCHED because... well, it's night and I'm playing with the big kids.
After an eternity, the starting shot is finally given. And I am shaking with anticipation as the ground thunders around me with the stampede of hundreds of teenaged boys looking for their Indians.
The garbage can is jostled a few times, but no one lifts the lid.
It starts getting warmer and warmer - despite the layer of cold sweat on my skin.
I'm running out of fresh air and trying desperately not to nudge the garbage can with any movement.
Oh Good Lord, I'm 11 years old and I'm sitting in a garbage can in the middle of a field at night!
Then finally it happens.
I am waaaaay too hyped up, waaaaaay too excited, and had waaaaaay too much Sprite at dinner.
Yes dear friends.
I.peed.on.the.gold.
What was I supposed to do?
My mini bladder had betrayed me.
Once I was convinced I'd been abandoned, the lid suddenly came off, cool night air flooded in, and a guy easily hauled my skinny (wet) butt out of the garbage can.
Oh Lordy... I screamed the instant the lid had come off, continued screaming in his face, and ran as fast as my little flip-flops would let me. Screaming all the way of course.
Cuz I was a big kid now - and that's what big kids do, right?
And you know what? I don't think they ever found the gold. The poor guy was probably traumatized by the little girl shrieking in his face and never even bothered to look. Most likely, one of the camp counselors had the lucky task of retrieving the treasure.
Gives whole new meaning to GOLDen showers, eh?
~
Alright, now that I've mortified myself (anything for you, peeps), I'll pass the torch along and beg you guys to link up your own stories. You know, to make me feel a tad bit normal and all?
(My mom is going to be peeing her own pants reading this. I don't think I ever told her, and actually made it back to the cabin and into new shorts before she caught up. Wasn't that a fun year Mom?)