Near Death Experience

A near death experience, was it an accident or did Johnnie try to kill me?!  I will let you be the judge.


Back in the day I want to say that I was twelve, and my little sister Johnnie was ten, but I could be wrong maybe we were eighteen and twenty.  We had this old couch (the kind with the hide away bed inside) out in our garage, not really sure why but it was there.  But there it was calling to us to come and play.  Johnnie and I decided it would be sort of fun to be folded up in this thing.  Quickly we decided that I would go first.  I am not sure if it was because I was older and braver; or if it was because Johnnie was younger and more intelligent. 


First remove couch cushions, and then unfold the bed from its cozy home.  I climbed in and laid flat like I was in a coffin (should have been the first red flag).  Johnnie folded the end of the couch up and over me very slowly causing the mattress to slowly squeeze me.  The mattress started getting tighter and tighter around me as the bed total enveloped me.  I told Johnnie to slow down, as she started to lower the Angela burrito into the dark, lonely abyss that was the center of the couch.  I was traveling where no man, woman or child had ever gone before. 


All of the sudden I began to panic, really panic!  John… ummm, I think I am done I don’t want to be in here anymore, can you go ahead and pull me out?!  At that moment I have that stomach dropping feeling, and I hear Johnnie say oops as I slid completely into the couch.  If you put the cushions back on the couch you would never have known I was in there, except for high pitched screaming coming from the inside.  I really started to panic, John I want out of here, get me out!  Johnnie was on the outside tugging, pulling, and mustarding up all the strength she could from her little ten year old body.  JOHN!  I can’t breathe in here!!!  In the middle of her pulling she looked to see a large three to four inch gap above where my head and below my feet.  Calmly she tells me about the gap and I should be getting enough air.  What does she know; I am the one suffocating in here?!  Then she proceeds to tell me that she is leaving to go get our brother.  WHAT?!  Don’t leave me; I don’t want to die alone! 


She rolls up her sleeves, at least that is what I would have pictured in my head had I not already been busy watching my short life flash before me. She gives that stupid couch bed another hard pull, and out came the bed with a half crazed sister rolling from it.  Johnnie crumbled to the floor, tearing streaming down her face.  I started toward her, but my legs feeling like jelly beneath me I felt like I was walking in quick sand.  Wiping her hand across her face, she looked at me with pain in her eyes, if… I would have killed you dad would have killed me…

Bird in Hand, I wish

Bird in hand is worth two in the bush, you have heard that saying.  But poop in hand, now that is worth a good story...

As a new mom I have found that very little grosses me out anymore; keeping that in mind continue reading.

I was enjoying a nice lunch with my husband, sister and her husband in Texas.  I know what you are thinking poop and lunch should never be stated in the same story!  But... there I was I only call it like I see it.  I had finished my sandwich and took Brooklyn Baby from Josiah so he could finish his.  So I have Brooklyn facing out (she social, likes to be in on all the action) cradled in my arms, then I don’t know for what reason I happened to look down and investigate my hand.  And right on the end of my thumb was a dollop of poo (yes I called it a dollop: a lump or blob of "some" substance).  It was the color of Grey Poupon mustard, or as I like to call it now poopon (yes I am sure you saw that coming).  And no I didn’t taste it even if there was a chance it could have been mustard since I was eating a sandwich!  I am no dummy (at least not this time).

I proceeded to show Josiah, because that’s what I do now when anything weird or out of the ordinary happens to me.  He didn’t find it very interesting and wondered why I didn’t immediately clean it off.  After cleaning off my thumb, I continued with my all too familiar routine.  I grabbed the baby by her legs, butt in air, and ran at Josiah trying to wipe it on him!!!  Just kidding (action that happens in my head sometimes, but never has actually happened)  I grabbed the leg that had the leaking poo on it in one hand away from me and started to lay her down for the clean up process.  My sister (wise mother of three) tapped me on the shoulder and said “ummm Ang, I don’t think you should do that here in the restaurant”.  Right, good point! 

So, with baby’s poopie leg pointing the way, we left the eating establishment.  We found a park bench, a different outfit, and then half a box of wipes later, walla, good as new!