Let’s face it: my foot just wears my mouth as a shoe

I recently went to a weekend winter camp as a counselor (I know… how am I qualified?) and overheard one of my campers reading some pretty bad fanfic.

Me: Oh man that is the worst! It sounds like a 4th grader wrote it! So much angst and all of the sentences are structured exactly the same. Please spare me.

Student: I know right? It’s just bad! Here’s a different one I wrote…

Tidal Wave

How are so many of my stories about bowel movements? You might not believe this, but I am in fact potty trained. I even use the toilet successfully multiple times a day.

This is a story of peer pressure and how terribly I cope with it.

In 6th grade my school took us to Six Flags Magic Mountain. My family practically lived there during my childhood so it wasn’t that big of a deal to me, but it was fun to go with friends. I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the ride Tidal Wave, but it’s a water ride that soaks onlookers that are standing on a nearby pier. Stand on one side of the red line, you get wet. Stand on the other, you don’t.

I had been complaining for about half an hour about how I needed to use the restroom when we passed Tidal Wave and I was on the verge of bursting. I was about to ditch my friends to run to the nearest restroom when they decided it would be fun to trick me into getting drenched on the pier.

I knew exactly what they were doing because I had done this same thing dozens of times. I’m a Six Flags pro, remember? But as they were dragging me over the red line I realized that if I let them do this to me I wouldn’t be able to hold it anymore.

So I didn’t.

I let them prank me into getting drenched so that I didn’t have to hold it anymore.

30 min later: “Didn’t you need to use the restroom?”

“…No.”

The Time I Bombed Target’s Bathroom

It was my time of the month and I was out of tampons so I ran to target to get some. Immediately after I bought them I need to use them, so I made my way to the women’s restroom right behind a Target employee. She went into a stall and immediately ran out of it like a monster was peeking out of the toilet so I decided to not take my chances and go in a different stall. When I got in there and sat down I realized that I also had the period poops.

The super stinky, how-can-my-body-hold-so-much-crap poops.

While doing my own thing, I heard two other girls enter and use the bathroom. Suddenly, one of them says, “My toilet won’t flush!” To which the other replies, “Mine won’t either!” Then I hear an employee explain that the toilets aren’t functioning and that the bathroom is being closed for maintenance.

So the obvious response is to pray and pray that my toilet is the exception to this restroom breakdown. It wasn’t.

I tried to flush the mess I had just made but the water level started rising higher and higher. I did the fastest hand washing of all time as I heard the toilet water and all the contents that I had just put in there start to splash on the floor!

I ran as fast as I could out of the bathroom to the exit while yelling “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” to the employee with the mop bucket entering the now-bombed bathroom.

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Boob Touching

This is the most awkward thing that has ever happened to me at church.

Yep, church.

My husband and I were visiting a friend’s church where they make everyone wear name tags. I placed mine on the left side of my chest, but I’m pretty tiny so it pretty much covered my entire left breast. When we were greeted by the elderly pastor, he had some difficulty reading our name tags. He leaned in close to my husband’s chest, tapped his name tag with a wobbly finger and read it out loud. Then he leaned over to me to make the same gesture and poked me square on the boob.

The Accidental Text

I feel like everyone has done it. You know, sent a text to the wrong person. Well my story totally wins.(or loses–however you want to look at it)

I was explaining to my mom over the phone that my acne had gotten so bad that I scheduled a dermatologist appointment to get it taken care of. It was the worst it had ever been and I had been caking on makeup to cover all the redness and splotches and it was getting seriously painful to even lay on my pillow at night. Like really really bad. She had never seen me break out so badly and was wondering if I could send her a pic to see if it was actually an allergic reaction instead of just acne.

Here’s where the mistake was made: when I opened up my iPhone messenger app to send her a pic, it was already open to a conversation, but not with my mom. It was with my overly awkward church worship leader! I snapped 2 pics and sent them off before I realized what I had done!

He claims to have never opened it, but how could he not? And if he did, it’s so embarrassing that of course he would say he never saw it. I’m sure he wishes he never did.

How about just never throw stones?

4th grade was a tough year for me. Long division, an over-crowded classroom, and the worst yard duty lady of all time. She was old and mean and wore giant glasses attached to a string of glass beads. I feel like this woman was present in everyone’s childhood because every time I describe her I get a resounding “Oh, I know what you mean.”

Being the 4th grader that I was, my friend and I were trying to see how high we could throw a rock into the air. We were so cool. We had thrown the rock a few times and I knew I could really throw it high if I put my whole body into the motion. I got a little carried away and arched my back enough to send the rock flying backward over my head and directly into the leg of the horrible yard duty lady.

She came screaming over to me and shoved her nose so close to mine that my eyes watered from trying to look at her through her coke bottle glasses. She screamed and yelled at me for what felt like 2 recesses and finally determined that multiple sessions of detention were the only cure for a 4th grader’s desire to throw stones.

Im pretty sure I have thrown plenty of rocks since then. Those detentions didn’t take, I guess.

No Pants #4

This can also be titled “Ladybugs Are A Bunch Of Jerks” because I was pantsed by a swarm of them.

Not really, but whatever. I still blame the bugs.

At church camp one year there was a huge swarm of ladybugs that covered the entire camp. we had to cancel a bunch of activities because there were too many bugs to go outside. They were getting in kids’ eyes ears and mouths just from walking around. It was seriously an apocalypse-status attack.

One activity that made the cut was a water balloon fight. Since the little beetles steered clear of water, we were pretty safe. So we ran around and got soaked and had a great time. When I went back to the cabin to change back into dry clothes, I found a lost and lonely ladybug in my suitcase. Being the compassionate kid that I was, I decided to set the thing free outside.

Turns out that sometime between coming into the cabin and finding the ladybug I had taken off and forgotten about my pants. So I set the jerk free on the deck of the cabin wearing a wet t-shirt and my underoos while a group of kids walked past with fishing poles.

I’ve only recently begun to forgive the little jerks with their stupid polka-dotted butts and ugly beetle faces.

You're not fooling anyone, you spotted jerk.
You’re not fooling anyone, you spotted jerk.