GUEST BLOG!!!!
Hi everyone. I'm not Sara, but I'm her rotten big sister. She has been inviting me...actually daring me...to contribute to this site for a while. So far, I have refrained, but today I've got more work to do than I know what to do with, calls to friends (including two brides-to-be) I've been putting off returning so I can sleep, and an invisible pick driven through my right eye. So what's a gal to do? I'm going to write about one of the most amusing things I've ever seen for my Sweet Baby Sisser's Blog. So without further ado, here is the official, eye-witness account of ...
The Unfortunate Loogey Incident
I was minding my own business one fine morning during my senior year in high school, driving my sister and I to "the block" where we spent some part of every day of the week. We were on our way to school, and Sara was in the passenger seat dutifully minding her own business as I sang along to ridiculous 80's music. (Cut me some slack, it was the 80's.) Sara had a cold or allergies or something and had been slinging snot around for days. Suddenly, she sneezed explosively! Out the corner of my eye, I saw a big blob of something fly out of her face and hit the windshield!
"ARGH!" I said calmly, "Wipe that up!"
"Wipe what up?" Sara replied.
"That giant honkin' loogey you just spewed!" I said, maintaining complete composure, even though there was something large, horrible, and slimey now roaming the front area of my beautiful, beloved, shiny, red 67 Camaro with chrome rims, chrome air filter, chrome piston covers, chrome wing bolts, and chrome master cylinder cover--all of which I lovingly polished every single weekend. (No, I didn't have a life then, either.)
"I don't see anything," Sara said after conducting a relatively thorough search. There was truth written all over her sweet little face. Since I was busy driving, I decided to trust her and went back to singing along with my radio -- probably to "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" by U2. Oh, the irony!
A few minutes later, we pulled up to the school. I turned to say good-bye and saw, to my complete horror, A GIANT LOOGEY the size of a golf ball, clinging to the windshield DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF SARA'S FACE!!! Can you imagine my horror? C'mon, imagine it; I dare ya.
"ARGH!" I again said calmly. "WIPE THAT UP! OH MY GAWD THAT'S DISGUSTING!!!"
"What!?" she said equally calmly but genuinely puzzled.
How she could not see that monsterous phlegm ball in front of her was beyond my comprehension. We didn't yet know she had terrible cataracts. I had never before, nor have I since, seen such an impressive specimen of sinus secretions. We should have saved it and sent it to a scientist somewhere, or perhaps to the Guiness Book of World Records. I'm sure there were several bacterial colonies living in it, happily oblivious to the spectacle they were causing. They probably had their own Gods and their own little holy wars on that Loogey. It was truly something to behold.
When she finally saw it, we both started laughing hysterically. We found a tissue and she wiped it up. We laughed for another 10 minutes, I think. Then I made her take the tissue with her when she got out of the car.
Now she has three beautiful daughters, and I wonder which of these will carry on her mother's legacy. My bet is on Karma, but I'm sure Divine Retribution will give her a run for her money. Poetic Justice will be the one in the driver's seat, wishing her sisters were strapped to the roof of the car instead of defiling her freshly ArmourAll-wiped upholstery.
I can picture it now. He he he.
The Unfortunate Loogey Incident
I was minding my own business one fine morning during my senior year in high school, driving my sister and I to "the block" where we spent some part of every day of the week. We were on our way to school, and Sara was in the passenger seat dutifully minding her own business as I sang along to ridiculous 80's music. (Cut me some slack, it was the 80's.) Sara had a cold or allergies or something and had been slinging snot around for days. Suddenly, she sneezed explosively! Out the corner of my eye, I saw a big blob of something fly out of her face and hit the windshield!
"ARGH!" I said calmly, "Wipe that up!"
"Wipe what up?" Sara replied.
"That giant honkin' loogey you just spewed!" I said, maintaining complete composure, even though there was something large, horrible, and slimey now roaming the front area of my beautiful, beloved, shiny, red 67 Camaro with chrome rims, chrome air filter, chrome piston covers, chrome wing bolts, and chrome master cylinder cover--all of which I lovingly polished every single weekend. (No, I didn't have a life then, either.)
"I don't see anything," Sara said after conducting a relatively thorough search. There was truth written all over her sweet little face. Since I was busy driving, I decided to trust her and went back to singing along with my radio -- probably to "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" by U2. Oh, the irony!
A few minutes later, we pulled up to the school. I turned to say good-bye and saw, to my complete horror, A GIANT LOOGEY the size of a golf ball, clinging to the windshield DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF SARA'S FACE!!! Can you imagine my horror? C'mon, imagine it; I dare ya.
"ARGH!" I again said calmly. "WIPE THAT UP! OH MY GAWD THAT'S DISGUSTING!!!"
"What!?" she said equally calmly but genuinely puzzled.
How she could not see that monsterous phlegm ball in front of her was beyond my comprehension. We didn't yet know she had terrible cataracts. I had never before, nor have I since, seen such an impressive specimen of sinus secretions. We should have saved it and sent it to a scientist somewhere, or perhaps to the Guiness Book of World Records. I'm sure there were several bacterial colonies living in it, happily oblivious to the spectacle they were causing. They probably had their own Gods and their own little holy wars on that Loogey. It was truly something to behold.
When she finally saw it, we both started laughing hysterically. We found a tissue and she wiped it up. We laughed for another 10 minutes, I think. Then I made her take the tissue with her when she got out of the car.
Now she has three beautiful daughters, and I wonder which of these will carry on her mother's legacy. My bet is on Karma, but I'm sure Divine Retribution will give her a run for her money. Poetic Justice will be the one in the driver's seat, wishing her sisters were strapped to the roof of the car instead of defiling her freshly ArmourAll-wiped upholstery.
I can picture it now. He he he.
posted by SaraSmile | 12:26 PM
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