Well y’all… I think it’s about time for True Story Tuesday to take its annual siesta. Would love it if you’d give it one more whirl before heading out to make all your new summertime “I can’t believe that just happened” posts! We’re saying farewell with an oldie, because I am apparently a glutton for punishment…
Somehow, I didn’t ever think the day would come where I would rat myself out to an entire population of bloggy friends… especially the readers who may fill a certain couple in (cough mom&dad cough) on my misdeeds.
But that’s what True Story Tuesdays are for, right? Coming clean with all the craziness that no one could believe all happens to one person. Sharing all those tales that are almost too funny/outrageous/miraculous/hilarious to be true.
Come on, you know you’ve got a few of your own. Heck, you’ve probably already posted a few. Just grab the code under the True Story Tuesday button on the sidebar, add it to your link, then come back and plug in your post link for some comment love.
After all, that’s what True Story Tuesdays are for, eh?
Now, if you guys don’t see me around for awhile… you’ll know my parents caught wind of this story and decided to ground their 30-something daughter for something that happened two decades ago.
It’s Too Late To Ground Me, Right?
DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER MOM AND DAD
Remember my last TST? I mean, who could forget? The crazy Kirby vacuum cleaner getting tangled in my hair and smacking violently into my forehead repeatedly while my father sat and laughed himself silly.
Now I wish I could say I got my revenge on the Kirby vacuum, but that beast just wouldn’t die.
But that camper… well the camper was another story.
Well, I wasn’t overly fond of camping – being the prissy city girl that I was (my family laughs maniacally at the thought that I now live in the country with three horses behind the house). I certainly didn’t have much use for the fake hotel that didn’t even have a bathroom. And I certainly didn’t have any use for it since I had to help clean it when I didn’t even want to go anywhere in it.
With summer past, I could breathe a sigh of relief. We wouldn’t be going anywhere in the rain. And we sure wouldn’t be going anywhere in the snow.
Speaking of snow… we finally got a day to play in it. We bundled up – my sis and I…
Yes, this was taken on the actual day of this TST. (Next time you mention wanting THICK hair, take a look at this picture and just feel sorry for me, k? Thanks to PCOS, this isn’t a problem anymore, but golly – try taming that before school every morning!)
And Mom… if you’re reading – even though I already told you not to – remember that you love that picture, and you especially love your oldest daughter who would never do anything intentionally to upset you.
Sooo… we headed outside for some major snowball fights just a few moments after that classic 80’s picture was taken (I was so rockin’ that acid wash denim jacket).
We shriek and scream and dodge and pelt our way through most of the snow in the driveway. My sis starts grabbing handfuls of snow off the truck.
Well, I have a better idea.
(Aren’t you glad, for the sake of your entertainment, that I have such spectacular ideas?)
I haul myself bodily onto the hood of the truck (sorry Dad), and clamber up the windshield (Mom is wincing… I told you guys to quit reading). I hang like a rock climber from the cab-over part of the camper (I was less than 5’ tall, I didn’t say it was a SMART idea). Then finally scramble onto the top of the camper.
Whoo-hoo! King of the hill! My poor sis is getting pelted with snowballs from above – from my exceptionally brilliant vantage.
She shrieks, attempts a few feeble retaliatory snowballs, then retreats around the back end of the truck.
By golly, I wasn’t going to let her get away with that! Not when the supremely non-athletic me had finally found a way to best her throwing skills.
And as I went to follow her from above… I took two steps on the top of that snow-covered camper and…
(Look away Mom & Dad)
I FELL THROUGH.
Oh, it wasn’t enough that I just (ahem) BREAK something, but my entire right leg went through the plastic ceiling vent and I was wedged tight.
And darn those siblings with perfect hearing… that little sister stopped dead in her tracks and turned around with a look of pure shock on her face.
“What was THAT???”
“That wasn’t NOTHING, what was it?”
Then followed an extremely painful series of negotiations in which I believe I agreed to do my sister’s chores and eat her vitamins for approximately 14 years.
I managed to somehow extract my leg with only minor injuries, but my physical wellbeing would be in far greater jeopardy if my dad found out what had happened to his camping treasure.
So… ummm… I… I… I didn’t tell him.
That’s right folks. I somehow managed to pay my sister off long enough for her to forget about the “incident”.
Except ‘til early summer. When Dad went out to ready the camper for our next trip.
And opened the door to discover massive damage.
Golly gee. Something had broken the vent, left broken plastic all over, and had allowed all that snow to just pile into the inside of the camper and Lordy, that mildew was something else. Baffling, truly baffling…
Seriously folks, this will be the first time my parents have heard the real reason for that mystery disaster that claimed our camper. Pray that I will somehow managed to sneak this post under the radar, so as not to jeopardize future blogging. Otherwise you may just have to petition for my release from cruel and unusual punishment (oh Lord, they’re gonna make me go camping, aren’t they???)
I know you’ve got some great stories – and we’d love to see ‘em! Link up below and we’ll be around with some comment love! Happy True Story Tuesday y’all!