In 1995, the first time we made the Great Journey to St Louis, an incident occured which has lived in infamy to this day.
For 3 years straight, my entire family left Memphis for a week and went to St Louis. So generally there were about 20 something of us, all travelling in a little caravan of cars up the interstate. This is where my cousin and I came up with the Signing game, where one car will pull along side the other and hold up a piece of paper saying funny.
This time around, I was riding with my aunt Renee. We were following my grandparents (a hard thing to do, considering the way my grandfather drives), and my parents. I think everyone must have been several miles behind us, because it was only us who stopped at that gas station.
It was in the town of (? I CANNOT remember the town’s name, unfortunately… it was an amusing name, but it has completely slipped my mind), Arkansas. My mother and aunt decided to go to the bathroom, and mom made me go with them since back then she assumed anytime SHE had to go, I had to go. Well, there were only 3 stalls in that little, dimly lit gas station bathroom. I was in the one closest to the door (just standing there, since I DIDN’T have to go), my aunt was in the middle, and my mom was on the far end. It’s all quiet for a few moments… then, suddenly…
“OH shiiiiiit!”
My aunt and I both went, “WHAT?”
My mother, from the far end, says, “I didn’t realise the LID was down!”
Yes, she didn’t lift the seat cover up before.. erm, going. My aunt and I spent the rest of the vacation in giggles, and even composed a song to the tune of Hey Jude about it. “Hey Teresa… don’t be ashamed… it could haaappeeen to anybody!”
We were talking about it again today, for no particular reason. Ah, yes, those were good times indeed.