I'm Back!!!

Although my grandfather was admitted to the hospital the night before our flights to Mexico, we still managed to have some good laughs. (the trip was for my grandfather and grandmother’s 50th wedding anniversary, so the news royally sucked… I was ready to hop on the next flight to Massachusetts… but talked out of it)

Onto the laughs:

One hurricane evening, my uncle and I sat on the L-Shaped couch reading our books with his daughter (my little cousin) watching Malcom in the Middle dubbed in Spanish. Fully immersed in my book, I released a Silent But Deadly Fart. Suddenly, I hear my uncle in his loud firm voice emphatically saying, “Irish Cream (let’s call my 4 yr old cousin this), Irish Cream, did you just poop in your pants?!?! Get over here… did you just poop your pants?!?! Get over here right now… let me check your pants!” He’s yelling at her.

I look up from my book thinking, “wow, she’s 4 - does she still poop her pants?!” Hmm. And then, light bulb – light bulb…. “um, Uncle T, I uh, just farted… guess my farts smell like 4 year olds crapping their pants.”

“Oh.” He replies. Irish Cream goes back to Malcom in the Middle, she doesn't speak Spanish.

More Laughs:

One severe thunderstorm evening, my two sisters, my aunt (NOT pronounced ant), and I all lied on our stomachs, chests propped up by pillows telling goofy stories. My little sister killed it with this story… it just needs to be told… and yes, it is a true story:

My sister’s co-worker from her summer job got a little too tipsy one night. This friend doesn’t typically go home with men she’s met at a bar, but she liked this one and decided to make an exception. They spend the night drunkenly groping one another. In the morning, the guy has to leave early. He tells her to sleep in and let herself out… and to leave her number because he definitely wants to see her again. As soon as she hears the door click shut, she beelines for the bathroom for the classic mound of beer shit.

She clogs the toilet. Frantic, she opens all the cupboards looking for a plunger. To no avail. She then tried the kitchen… and rifled through all the cleaning supplies… still no luck. Little Miss Brilliant, then decides to take two plastic bags and pull the shit out herself.

She holds her noise and dips her bag covered hands in… removes half the shit and is finally able to flush the toilet. She then writes her number down and leaves it by the bed.

She grabs all of her things and jets out of his apartment.

When the door shuts and locks behind her, she realizes ‘Oh FUCK, I left the bag of shit on the floor next to his bed and next to my number.’

Can I say, OH MY GOD!?!?!?! Imagine being that guy – coming home and seeing a bag of shit on the floor!?!?! Imagine that!!! What the fuck!?!?! A bag of shit. I’d move fucking countries.

Needless to say, he never called her back.