Thursday, September 16, 2010

Deviled Eggs

This trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house was in March, and it involved Easter that year. Now, everybody knows that I love deviled eggs, but only my family knew what they did to me. Everyone had strict orders not to let me have any kind of boiled eggs. My Grandfather was sneaking them to me at the bar, and my Grandmother was sneaking them to me in the kitchen, as I passed through on my way to the bar in the basement. I lost count of how many I had eaten, but they sure were good.
We left the next morning at zero dark hours, around 4am, anytime we went anywhere with my dad we would leave at 4am. On the return trip we had an extra person on board, my brother Tommy was coming down to stay with us for a while. He was 3 years older, and in the early years we were raised together, when my mom and I lived with my grandparents. So by 4:10 everybody was all settled in with pillows and blankets. My sister and brother were in the very back of the station wagon, Tommy and myself were in the back seat, mom and dad in the front. Everyone was sleeping except for my dad who was driving.
An hour later the boiled eggs started to do their job and I cut a silent but deadly fart. A few seconds later my dad was shaking my mom and telling her that the baby pooed his diaper. My brother was about 16 months old. So my mom woke up and told me to pass my brother to her, which I did holding back a smile. Now in these days Pampers were new and you couldn't reuse them once you took them off. She took off the diaper and told my dad that there was nothing in it. With a new diaper on I placed him in the back with my sister again. Just about the time everyone got settled down, another fart slipped out. A few seconds later, my dad is shaking my mom again telling her that the baby had shit his pants again. I pass the poor baby up to her again, same thing happened. With another new diaper on we all got settled down again. About an hour went by and it happened again. This time my dad swore up and down that the baby shit his pants, so we did it all over again, but this time mom stuck her finger in the diaper first and said she did not feel anything in the diaper. So we put him in the back again.
It's starting to get light out now and as I raised up a little bit to cut yet another fart my brother starts yelling that it was me cutting the farts not the baby. I couldn't help myself, I was laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. The rest of the trip was done with all the windows down and everyone cuddled up in their winter jackets, they kept saying they were going to tie me to the roof. Thank goodness that boiled eggs don't do that to me today.

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