This silly little story is such a good snapshot into why Doug and I work. Our best times are the moments when we are laughing uncontrollably about the stupidest things no one else would think are funny. Like that time we laughed for 10 unspeakable minutes after imitating Poco's meow. But I digress.
One night in 2005 (I think, not 100% accurate on that), Doug and I headed to Columbus to watch a friend in a karaoke contest. My mom was out of town, and my dad was in his boot (source of injury escaping me right now...was it stepping off a feed bag wrong? oh well). I believe our friend made it into the top 3 that night before we headed home once we realized my poor dad was in excruciating pain. On the way home, I stopped at a gas station and sent Doug in to get me AN ICE CREAM ON A STICK. That fact is very important to remember. Doug returned with A ROCKET POP. I ABHOR rocket pops. I'm not a big fan of popsicles, sherbet or anything not dairy that is in the freezer section. And I'm not really a big fan of ice cream in a bowl. It has to be ICE CREAM ON A STICK. And I flipped The Bitch Switch. I had a fit. My dad tried to take Doug's side, which just fired me up even more. So Doug started eating the rocket pop, and doing so in a very annoying way. Slurping, "ummm, it's so good," and offering me a lick every few miles all the way back to WP. And after every time, he would giggle. It was at this point I realized he had had more to drink than I had previously realized.
The mere mention of the words rocket pop can still make us laugh.
No comments:
Post a Comment