Forgotten Funnies

So today for some odd reason I remembered a few funny stories that I meant to blog about.  I don't want to forget them so I better get them out while they are back on my mind, all of them revolve around my semi-recent trip to Little Rock.  These stories are just proof of the following statement: These things only happen to me.  Ya know, crazy things that you can't believe the story because it's so ridiculous.  Every single one of these things happened to me within 72 hours.  This is normal.

{skip story "A" if you have a weak stomach}

A) Grocery shopping makes me nauseated.  The raw meat, the germs, the lunch meat with the olives in it that looks like one of the scary scenes from The Secret Garden, all the food- ew.  I literally feel sick to my stomach just walking into a grocery store.  I hurry quick fast when I grocery shop.  You need to know all of that to get the full effect of story "A."  So, I'm at the commissary stocking up on all of Karl's wife-is-gone essentials before my Little Rock trip and am rounding the corner for the hot dog aisle when my world stopped- a toddler started heaving and then vomiting right before my very eyes while I simultaneously locked eyes with his mom.  The worst part?  Locking eyes with the mom.  Now I have about .5 seconds to decide if I'm going to abandon her after she has spotted me or stop to help this clearly frazzled, embarrassed, woman.  Ugh... thanks a lot, conscience.  Y'all, the next 5 minutes of my life involved running paper towels down the grate of her grocery cart to remove her child's vomit from it.  This is not a joke, lie, or scam.  Ashton Kutcher is not involved.  My empathy quickly turned to rage when she later blurted out that "my doctor hasn't returned my call yet and I called over 24 hours ago."  Read: my child has been vomiting since yesterday.  Rage- WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU AT THE GROCERY STORE WHEN YOU KNOW YOUR CHILD IS SICK AND VOMITING??  You have freaking oreos in your cart!!  I could understand if you had to run in and buy bread & pedialyte but you have enough food for 2 months in there!!!  Ugh.  I was so mad.  And at that point at wasn't sure how much of this child's regurgitated food/mother's breastmilk was hidden on my hands.  I abandoned my cart and made a beeline for the nearest sink/antibacterial.  WOOOOOOFFFFFF.
Lessons learned: never let my kids sit in the cart because now I do know what is on those things, always be prepared when I am a mother (she had nothing to clean the vomit- no wipes or anything), and continue wiping down my grocery store purchases with Lysol wipes.

B) Remember this post?  You know, the one where I shared my tactic for getting over the petty times when Karl is bored and trying to pester me so I give him "shots?"  Well I wrote that well over 5 months ago.  While in Little Rock, I was having dinner with all my friends in town and some how it came out that my good friend, Leah, thought that I really give Karl shots!!!   Y'all, I had a cow.  I was freaking out, dying laughing, just doubled over at the thought of a) Leah actually rationalizing this in her head b) me really giving Karl for real injections c) who on earth could she have shared this with and do I need to go correct now?  Dying laughing.  We all were.  Hilarious.  She thought that I had access to syringes and saline or something to just punish Karl with injections.  So funny.  Thank you, Leah, for a good time, as always.

C) Here's a short version...While in Little Rock I was talking to my friends Susanna & Charis outside of a Starbucks when this young boy comes running up to us, sweating & panting.  My first judgmental thought was, oh great, he wants some money or for us to buy something.  We he just stands there, right next to us, and doesn't say anything until prompted by Sus, "uhh, can we help you?"  Boy- "Yeeahhhh, do y'all have cell phones?" Me- "Uh, yes, can one of us make a call for you?" obviously none of us are handing over our pricey smart phones Boy- "Yeah can you call xxxxxxxx?  I just ran away from home and I need to call my friend."  Me- "Hmmm, well, maybe we should call your mom.  I'm sure she's worried about you!"  Boy (in freak out mode)- "NOOOOO she'll call the cops and I already got one fense and they'll take me to jail!" Susanna- "Uh, you mean offense?"  Boy ignores her.  Charis- "How old are you?"  Boy- "13." Me- "Yeah, we aren't going to help you run away.  So, there is actually a policeman in this Starbucks right here.  How about we go talk to him and tell him what's going on?"  Boy (freaks out even more)- "NOOOOO, I DON'T WANT TO GO TO JAIL!!  I just helped my brother bust out a window then my mom came out to smoke and I held up some broken glass to her and told her I was going to cut her and she said she's gonna call the cops." oh lord. what on earth is this boy gripping to his chest right now?  should be a duffel bag full of running away essentials.. what is tha..?  oh, that's a decorative 6"x6" canvas... hmmm...  Me- "OK well we are for sure going to talk to this policeman.  You are 13.  He is not going to be hauling you off to jail.  Come on..."  and then I dumped him on the poor policeman just trying to get a coffee... bye!


D) My flight from Little Rock got back really late because of weather delays (like 1 am), add to that the hour long drive to Sumter from Columbia and Karl & I were getting really tired and soooo ready to be in bed.  On one of the long stretches of country road we saw a car in the median that had clearly just run off the road, there was still like fog inside the car from the airbags deploying.  Karl quickly turned around to go see if he could help, we were the first ones to get to the car.  Well, it was a young man in the army that had literally just returned from Afghanistan, was on his way to Shaw Air Force Base, and fell asleep at the wheel.  He was so shaken up and upset at what had happened so we offered to stay with him until the tow truck and police got there.  An hour later (2 am) nobody had shown up.  The Army Man's supervisor had ordered him to not wait for very long and to leave after an hour so he asked for a ride back to Sumter at this point.  We agreed (for the record, I thought it was odd to leave the crash site although I have never been in this situation so I didn't argue).  We drove about 30 minutes and got to his hotel in Sumter when he got a call from the police demanding that he get back to the crash site.  It's 2:30 am at this point. Are you kidding me?  So we drove him back to the site.  It's 3:00 am at this point.  Karl has to be at work at 7:00 am.  We wait about 15 minutes.  Drive him back to his hotel.  It's 3:45.  We drive towards home only for him to call us because he left an important paper in our car.  We drive it back to his hotel. It's 4:00 am.  I want to die.  Where is Ashton Kutcher?  This has to be a joke.  In bed at 4:45- best.feeling.of.my.life.  no good deed goes unpunished.

Maybe now you can have a better understanding of how I have turned out to be the way I am.
Hannah K.C. Burton