Because the Christmas season is upon us, I feel it is my duty to share an often neglected aspect of the Christmas story.
Not many people realize that after Mary gave birth in the stable, she and the three wisemen headed to the local Bethlehem carnival for a ferris wheel ride.
And brought the baby Jesus with them.
And also, apparently, a parrot.
I haven’t brought up the fact that the day after Thanksgiving I woke up with a delightful urinary tract infection. I realize this may be crossing the line of too much information, however, it is relevant to the story. If it weren’t, I can assure y’all that I would never just share random information about my bladder. Because EWWW.
Anyway, Caroline did indeed spend the night of The Holiday of the Turkey with Mimi and Bops. I cannot tell y’all how excited I was to sleep in late on Friday morning and, really, if you have kids you know exactly how excited I was. However, I made two crucial errors that cost me my valuable morning of sleeping in.
1. I forgot to put the bark collar on our dog Scout. If Scout doesn’t have his bark collar on at night then he feels the need to bark at very ominous, scary things such as a leaf falling from a tree. I was rudely awakened about 4 a.m. by Scout barking wildly to let us know that somewhere a blade of grass just blew in the wind.
2. I ate too much chocolate and various spicy foods and decided to not drink any water all day long. After all, drinking water might cause me to not eat as much and that’s just un-American.
Thus, I awoke at 6 a.m. and recognized the beginnings of a urinary tract infection.
And oh, they are delightful.
Also, I don’t know that I’ve ever mentioned this because, again, TOO MUCH INFORMATION, but on a normal day I go to the bathroom about 87 times. And that’s not counting the three consecutive times I go right before bed every night. I’m a compulsive potty-er.
Anyway, our plan for Friday was to head to our friend AJ’s ranch and hang out with her family. We were so excited about it and I decided that we needed to forge ahead with our plans in spite of my compromised bladder. So in between trips to the bathroom, I got us packed. We loaded the cars and headed south on I-35.
And I say loaded the cars because we took two cars. P was going to another friend’s ranch on Saturday but Caroline and I were going to come home, therefore we needed two cars. I gave Caroline the choice of who she wanted to ride with and her only concern was who was going to be in front. She chose P because he would be the leader and in her mind, the clear winner.
And she may have looked me right in the eye and growled, “Daddy and I are going to BEAT YOU.”
I hope I’m not raising Tonya Harding.
I knew I needed to go to the bathroom before we had even reached downtown San Antonio but I tried desperately to keep my mind on other things. Finally, I called P and told him I’d need to stop. We pulled over at a gas station and Caroline decided she also needed to go.
After waiting in line for 10 or 48 minutes, it was finally our turn. Only Caroline didn’t need to go after all. She just likes to check out various gas station restrooms and report on their smell.
Which isn’t at all odd.
We got back on the road for about 3 minutes when, all of a sudden, P pulled over on the shoulder. He looked under his truck and I could read his lips as he said what appeared to be DANG and SHOOT or maybe it was something else. And I haven’t mentioned that behind his truck he was hauling a trailer with his Polaris 4-wheel vehicle on the back.
We didn’t look at all like the Clampetts coming to town.
Or perhaps like a scene from Grapes of Wrath.
He motioned for me to come get Caroline out of the truck in case oncoming cars didn’t see a huge, white Ford F350 with a 15 foot trailer attached with various hazard lights blinking like a huge beacon. So there we stood on the side of I-35, in the freezing cold, not looking at all like white trash.
And I had to go to the bathroom.
No, I didn’t go on the side of the road.
But I thought about it.
It seems that P’s muffler had started to fall off which was causing his truck to sound like he was about to start drag racing. And this wasn’t just some factory muffler, it’s some SUPER muffler with SUPER MUFFLER qualities that make your truck ten times better than an average truck. At least that’s what the salesman told us. P wanted to salvage the muffler.
And there we stood on the side of the road. In the freezing wind. Needing to potty.
Meanwhile, P was under the truck trying to use baling wire to reattach his overpriced muffler. It will always be a treasured memory for me.
Finally all of us, including the muffler, got back on the road so we could reach the next exit and pull off because two guesses! I needed to go to the bathroom.
We repeated the earlier bathroom scenario and once again, Caroline didn’t go.
Then, about 10 minutes later, rinse and repeat.
We head out again and drive for a lengthy 20 more minutes before P pulls over at another gas station. I didn’t know why we were stopping, but was worried we were about to lose the family inheritance, otherwise known as the muffler.
He pulled Caroline out of the truck.
She needed to go potty.
Because the other three stops had been insufficient.
All said and done it took us three and a half hours to make a one hour drive to the ranch.
And y’all will be glad to know the muffler is still with us. It was touch and go for awhile but I think it’s going to be okay.
And, hopefully, so will my bladder.
Yesterday afternoon I decided to take Caroline to see The Bee Movie. I’d been talking about it for at least two weeks, but never had the right opportunity.
However, there is never a better time to trade watching DVD’s at home for watching a movie on the big screen than when it’s 45 degrees outside and wet. So off we went.
I was buckling her into her booster seat and she said, “Mama, let me show you what I got in case of an emergency”.
She pulled a bejeweled Barbie compact mirror out of the pocket of her fleece jacket.
I thought she was going to pull out some candy, so I was surprised by the mirror.
“What did you bring that for? For what kind of emergency?”
“In case somebody looks terrible.”
Well done, my child. Well done.
In all the excitement of the Aggies beating the hell outta t.u., I almost neglected to talk about what we did the weekend before Thanksgiving. And trust me, there is a lot to tell.
Gulley and I took the kids to Bryan for a little thing called Santa’s Wonderland, which y’all have to admit is a catchy name for a Christmas-themed village. Much better than their original choice which was Santa’s Mediocre Village.
We arrived in Bryan and hadn’t even gotten the bags unloaded when Nena called and told us that we had to come visit because she had something for the kids. The thing about Nena is she always has something for everyone and you never know what you’re going to get. Remember this shirt?
Classic.
In fact, last time I visited I just barely got out of her house without a four foot tall letter M painted gold. She had originally bought it for Gulley’s mama whose name starts with M, but for some reason Gulley’s mama declined to seize the opportunity to make a four foot tall letter M part of her décor. Nena was just sick that I left her house without that M.
And truth be told, so was I.
I could have found a matching P for P and hung them over the head of our bed. We’d be kind of like Laverne DeFazio, except we wouldn’t be bottlecappers for Schotz brewery.
Anyway, we headed over to Nena’s. She was watching “What Not To Wear” and was quick to tell us the woman looked liked she needed to be ARRESTED for indecent exposure.
I bet she forgot her stole.
She’d bought cute snowmen for the kids and then told me she found a jacket in the back of her closet that she just had to show me. She came out holding what can only be described as something Diana Ross might have in her closet.
Except more flamboyant.
She wanted to know where I thought she could wear it and, other than a roller derby, I was fresh out of ideas. I told her I wasn’t sure but it was probably too dressy for breakfast. She was quick to inform me that it would be perfect for holiday shopping because really “It’s CASUAL because it has ribbed knit cuffs. IT’S LIKE A SWEATER!”
Sure it is.
But she was so excited about it that she let me take a picture of her modeling it and was thrilled to know it would be seen by the “MILLIONS of people who read Big Mama”.
Yes, I have somewhere between ZERO and a million readers.
On Sunday we went back over to Nena’s. Uncle Johnny and Uncle Glen were over at the house eating lunch. They were all abuzz about the number of folks that are leaving Central Baptist Church for First Baptist Church. It seems there has been some kind of drama. Uncle Glen says Central Baptist needs to do what his church did and start serving real wine for communion. Ever since they wheeled in that piano and started serving alcohol, attendance has skyrocketed.
They’re up to 98 members. 98 members who enjoy imbibing while listening to a little piano music on a Sunday morning.
Uncle Glen was also lamenting his woman troubles. He can’t seem to find a nice girl. A few minutes later he was watching Gulley’s boys play and told her, “You’d make a good cow. You drop huge stock but you don’t eat much.”
I think I might have a clue as to why he’s having woman problems. Call me oversensitive, but it was always a dealbreaker once I was compared to livestock.
On Sunday night we went to Santa’s Wonderland. The kids loved every minute of it.
They played in the snow.
They sat on Santa’s lap.
They rode a mechanical bull.
You can’t teach that kind of bullriding skill. It’s just inherent.
Truth be told, I was a little concerned about the whole bullriding thing. Not because of the safety or anything, but just concerned it might start Caroline down a path that will lead to her marrying a boy whose idea of love is to have his and her license plates in the back window of his truck. And she’d have to listen to things like “Sissy, get me my cigarettes.”
Maybe I’m just overprotective because after watching Urban Cowboy as an impressionable 5th grader, my life dream for a few years was to ride the bull at Gilley’s.
I’m not proud.
Anyway, they finished off the night with a hayride and cotton candy. Lots of cotton candy.
That is pure, unmitigated joy.
Two years in a row.
I have to say this for Coach Fran, he went out with style.
I believe this is what is commonly referred to as a food coma.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.
Select an online retailer below.