Saturday, August 17, 2013

Oh Poo

I was driving in Mount Pleasant with Anna my daughter in the passenger seat. We were stopped at a traffic light and saw a car coming in the opposite direction. It slowed and stopped on the other of the stop light. When I looked at the windshield, I thought that I could see the silhouette of the driver with sun glinting off the surface of the sunglasses she was wearing. The way the sun was shining, the inside of the car remained dark and only the glasses stood out.
I turned to my daughter, sharing my thoughts with my daughter, saying “All I can see of the driver is his sunglasses and it looks like his eyes are glowing.”
Anna replied, “Yeah, but I can see her silhouette too, but her eyes do look like they are growing.”

When the light turned green and the car started to pull forward, the angle of the sun on the windshield and the silhouette of the woman disappeared and the so did the glasses. What did appear was totally unexpected.
The sun on the windshield revealed that a bird had crapped on the windshield and there were two splotches of white poop positioned exactly in front of the driver’s face. It looked exactly like the mirrored lenses of a pair of sunglasses.
I think the thing that amazed me the most was the poop was directly in front of her face and that she could see around it to drive her car.


Another story that includes poop involved my dad. He had been outside working, probably washing his car or mowing the grass. He decided that he would go back inside after he had finished. He walked up a small hill beside of the garage. When he came into the house he was upset. A bird flew over while he was walking up the hill and dropped a load on my dad. Not only did the bird poop in Dad’s hair, but managed to put some of it inside of his ear. The poop was white, runny, and plenteous. Dad made short work of it. He headed directly to the bathroom and scrubbed until it was all gone.
Like the old adage, “Aren’t you glad cows don’t fly?”


Okay, since we are talking about poop, I will tell a hunting story. Ken, myself, and our dad were hunting in our usual place near Somerset, Pennsylvania. We had taken Dad there for years. Dad walked to his spot and saw hunter’s orange in his area. He changed direction and sat nearby. The orange was in eyesight. All day long Dad sat and watched for a deer. Dad didn’t see the orange move all morning. When he left the area, he walked closer so he could see the “hunter.” What he saw was something odd. What he saw was just a hunter’s hat. The hunter had apparently taken a dump and had used the hat to clean his bottom and left the hat behind. Dad hadn’t walked down to his spot because of a phantom hunter.

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