A Story with Poo

Being the oldest child in my family, I've become pretty used to being the butt of jokes. Ok, well, perhaps age doesn't have as much to do with it as my very literal translation of things and bad eyesight. For example, to this day, I cannot drive around my sister, brother, mother, or combination of the three without one of them exclaiming, "Remember the squirrel?".

I was 16 years old and had recently been upgraded from car-less, angst filled teenager to taxi driver for the family. My responsibility after school was to pick up my sister and brother from their school one town over, drop them off at the house, then go back to my high school for debate practice, academic team practice, band practice, etc. So, one one of these trips when both the brother and the sister were late getting out of school, I was going a little faster than normal home. Ok, ok, so I was speeding. Anyway, I don't know where you are from, but it is pretty much the norm now to have the reflectors embedded into the road on the middle line of the road. Well, we didn't have those in SC for a LONG time. In fact, they were quite the novelty when I was 16, and very new to my hometown (one stop-light, 500 pop. town). So here I am in my little 88 Honda zipping down the highway trying to get the kids home as fast as I can when all of a sudden a squirrel darts out in front of us. My 5 year old brother just happened to be in the front seat (it was his turn and no airbags meant he couldn't be decapitated if we were to wreck) and saw the suicidal rodent. He immediately tears up when we hear the inevitable, "thump thump". Then, we hear, "thump thump" again. And again. All I can think is 'Damn, it's stuck. How the hell am I gonna get out of the car without seeing squirrel goo?' and my brother has now tried to get his head out of the side car window while still being belted into the seat to see if he can SEE the roadkill. Amidst all of the commotion, my sister from the back of the car announces in a most annoyed and disdainful voice, 'You idiot. You are driving over the reflectors. The squirrel survived.'

Then there was the time that we were at a middle school football game and a bird crapped in my hair. I, of course, find it hilariously gross and announce it to everyone, whilst my sister grabs my arm and informs me if I had just kept my mouth shut, no one would ever have known. Yeah yeah, whatever. Damn pigeons...Using my head as target practice. I suppose I should be grateful it was a pigeon and not a seagull...

Today, I get a call from the sage sister announcing that she has also had a close encounter with a bird. HA HA HA!! Is it wrong that I feel vindicated? I think not. Way to go, bomber birdy, I owe you one.