Das not funny Friday - Dry Heave

I have been wracking my brains the past few weeks with not a funny tail in sight. And then the Heaven's opened and not one, mind you, but two hilarious editions floated down for the week:

#1 - Tony and I volunteered Friday night with a new church in Columbia "Awaken". They put on a park movie night with free popcorn, Pepsi, bouncy house (that deflated and threatened to trap a few small children), and tons of fun. After the evening, as we were helping to tear down and clean up - I introduced myself again to the pastor's wife and was having a lovely, adult conversation when "Invasion of the 3 year old and the 'peepee' dance" started previewing. I look to the rec. building - dark. I look for any potty houses - nada. So I go to option #3 - big brother. "Yeah, that's why I had ya first son."

Me - "Hey Seth, will you go take your sister to the woods so she can pee?"
Seth - "Braeden's gotta go!"
Me - "well, just all go, but hurry!"

I continue on my adult conversation, confident that our vast experience of camping (cough-cough) and southern life should suffice for minimal potty accidents. I then look over and see both boys, pants open and loose, standing at the very edge of the woods, not a foot inside - peeing in our direction. Great. Glad you both have such nice manners men. I then look over to see my daughter running in circles continuing to do her dance to the peepee gods and holding herself. I take off trotting to the edge of the field madly signing "turn around! turn around!" while restraining myself from yelling at full throttle. Run past the boys and hear, "Seth peed on me!!!" Obviously, cause mom told them to turn around and we all know those things don't have shut off switches. Ignore and take little girl deeper into the woods and help her squat to pee all over her legs and shoe. Glad I could be there to help ..

I return to the field and later catch up with the pastor's wife to apologize for, on our first meeting, having to tell my kids to take their sister to the woods to pee. How so-fist-if-icated I is. We then get in our '64 pickup, threw the chilluns in the back, and head to the shack. I take that back, we might have stopped at the 7-11 for some more chew, cause mama likes her late night dip. We are in South Carolina after all.. (Oh, and even though it was late - we DID get quick baths to wash off the urine smell. In case you were worried about us tipping off the deer while huntin' the next mornin'.)

#2. Last night at a dinner of fine dining of baked potatoes and soup ala can - Addison tells me she likes sour cream. Can she have some? "Uh, baby, you don't like sour cream." "Yes, I do, I want some. "

I place a dime size dollap (cause everythings better with a dollap), on a minut piece of potato which she snatches up and begins to chew.

Chew....Gag, dry heave.... Chew....Gag, dry heave.... Chew .... Gag, dry heave.....Chew ... Gag, dry heave. (gotta admire the persistence). She then swallows, looks to us quickly with a huge smile and declares:

"YUMMY!!!!" Oh, child. Your lying skills already are giving me nightmares in preparation for the teenage years.