On Saturday, I promised that some mishap or other would transpire from floating down a black water river in a tire tube. Amazingly, nothing happened, other than we had tons of fun. It was a postcard day for floating down the Edisto. Me being me, though, I’m bound to find some sort of awful hilarity somewhere.
We loaded up in the car to drive to the Denmark Cemetery at dusk. What were we doing driving to a country grave yard in the waning evening on the 3rd of July? Were we a crazed band of drunken Satanists, conducting a seance to ask the great spirits if our country will survive for another year? Well, that’s another post for another day.
My husband left the windows down on Miss Mini all day. Because we were parked in the direct sun, and this is the Deep South, it was the prudent thing to do so that the seats didn’t give us third degree burns on our behinds when we ultimately had to sit on them again. (As an aside, why doesn’t someone invent “seat coolers” for just such a problem?)
Racing against the fading light, we packed into the car and shoved off, my husband driving, me in the passenger seat, and his mother in the back. In a blur, we motored down the barren country road behind our ringleader, driving as fast as we could in an attempt to keep his truck tail lights visible up ahead.
As we came over a rise in the pavement, that was when I felt it. Something was moving around down there. You know, DOWN THERE?
Uncomfortably, I wriggled in my seat, thinking that I was imagining things, but something was definitely still moving around in the vicinity of my nether regions. Tentatively, and with as much decorum as I could muster under the circumstances, I peeked under the hem of my skirt.
Upon glimpsing a big old ugly brown bug, I screamed and pulled my skirt up over my waist with one hand while ripping at my naughty bits with the other in a hapless attempt to move that june bug invader anywhere but there. I don’t even want to imagine what this show would’ve appeared to be to an innocent bystander. It is bad enough that I exposed myself to my mother-in-law. I’m sure she didn’t want to “know” me that well.
The poor bug somehow ended up near the windshield. I don’t know which one of us was more traumatized, but my money is still on the june bug. My husband stopped the car, grabbed it and turned it loose outside, and I can tell you that it hightailed it away from me as fast as it could move itself.
Next time, I’ll leave the car windows shut and let my backside fry, thank you very much.
16 Comments
Too funnuy, you need to start a comic strip called “the adventures of Andra” and her trusty sidekick MTM
What’s bad is that I’m happy to just throw these things out here. Surely, I’m not the only person something who’s had something like this happen to them……..
June bug invader, did you know the Lexus ls430 has cool seats, ideal for Saudia arabia, and of course for your part of the deep south.
I did NOT know that, Abdul. Very good to know for future vehicular purchases. Thank you. 🙂
We test drove a Ford Expedition that had seat coolers, fan-frigging-tastic, but out of our budget (and gas mileage) etc
Yep, a vehicle that large would be a deal breaker for me too, seat coolers or no.
That reminds me of the time my two sisters and I were driving up one of the hollers around my home in Ky and a bumble bee got in the car with us. We all had on these big circle skirts that were so popular then and the bee, reacting to our frenzied efforts to keep away from it became just as wild as we were acting. It was flying up our skirts and don’t let anybody tell you that a bee can only sting once – that is certainly not true. We were finally out of the car in the middle of the road fanning our skirts above our head and screaming trying to get that bee away from us. We looked behind us in the road and these three redneck holler men in their pickup were rolling in their overalls laughing at the spectacle we putting on. We jumped in the car and took off with very red faces.
I’ve always loved that story.
Andra, I swear you and I could be sisters as far getting into trouble that is not our fault. I will relate some one day. This was hilarious. Keep writing. I enjoy your escapades. Phyllis
The escapades fuel the writing, which I’m enjoying very much. Thanks for reading, Phyllis. I’d love to hear some of your stories any time. xo
Imagine my conundrum: dive in to your defense with gusto, or maintain decorum out of respect for my mother in the back seat…I hope I took the right tack.
Oh. My. God.
What? What’d I say?
The image that caused in my mind was x-rated, MTM. 😉
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