Poo

I stood there, smack in the middle of the parking lot, shocked.  Jerry Don and Alex’s laughter was immensely ringing in my ears and the only words I could mutter, please. get. me. something.  My gag reflexes were starting to take hold and it was all I could do not to release that morning’s breakfast all over the crosswalk leading into Kohl’s.  Jerry Don’s laughing was prohibiting is ability to walk fast and I was fighting my instinct to want to slap him!

I jerked the tissue out of his hand as he muttered something like, one in a million chances.

Let me preface this little story by saying, as we pulled into Kohl’s, Jerry Don made comment about the amount of birds hovering over the parking lot.  See where this is going? I was in mid sentence of a story that I can’t even remember was about when something cold and wet landed on my arm.  Before I became aware of what happened, I immediately thought bug and slapped at it, only to smear the nastiness of that moment.  Bird poo.  I managed to be the one in a million, as Jerry Don put it, to get targeted with bird poo.  I thought this only happened in the movies?

After a mini shower in the Kohl’s bathroom and gained control of my gag reflexes, I just realized that I will always be that person.  The person who breaks her pinkie toe on the only nail that worked it’s way out of a board on an old front porch, the person who enjoys a plate of nachos at a game, just for a basketball to land in it (cheese is not a flattering look), the person who gets sick on the bus after what apparently was too much hot chocolate…

and the person who becomes the target of bird poo.

Internet, I’m just that person.

Happy Tuesday!

And for flavor, here’s an iPhone shot of my little beauty.  She really is growing up!

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