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Full Moon?

By Mike Ivy

I have had the exact opposite luck....

The other night (Tuesday to be exact) I was traveling on US52 West about 45 in a 40. I was on my way to Wal-Mart with my 18 month old daughter to get diapers and felt the need to drive extremely carefully. The sun was in all of the driver's eyes as we headed due West. As I passed one slow moving vehicle I ducked back into the left lane to be able to merge onto US52N-231N. It was then I noticed a silver Mercedes 240C sport on my arse with a Cavalier Z24 rust bucket on his. They act like they want to go. Now mind you, this was 5:00pm in a college town (Can you say traffic?) I politely decline and wave them around. The two jump into the right lane and take off (ok the Mercedes took off and the Z24 tried.)

As they weave in and out of traffic they come to an opening about 4 cars ahead of me. As the Mercedes takes the left lane the Z24 is closing and Boom!!!!! Old man turns left in front of them both (Had they not been speeding he would have had time.) Mercedes swerves hard right into the Z24's path. They nudge and the Mercedes is sideways. (This 4 cars in front of me and closing fast!) Z24 takes right turn lane and escapes harm and continues driving away. Mercedes gets t-boned by the Crew Cab Ford truck that was behind him. Mercury Cougar stops behind the Truck only to be rear-ended by a Geo Tracker. Geo Tracker gets Hit hard enough from behind to send it sideways into the median by the S-10 that was in front of me.  At this point I am HARD in the brakes, look behind me to see dump truck coming fast! Check mirror, Swerve right to avoid frontal contact and mash the gas. Dump truck hits S-10. Chevy K/C-1500 hits dump truck... I take the right turn lane and make it out ok, so I thought.

As I merge onto US52N-231N I look back only to see my daughter (who is crying) begin to throw up all over herself, her car seat, and the leather back seat. My turn is coming up so I turn into Wal-Mart's parking lot and park in the back forty to get my daughter out and clean her and her chair up. Did I mention she had just successfully fed herself a bowl of Spaghetti-O's without making a mess?!

As I stand out in the parking lot and clean her off she begins to vomit some more. I think "great here I am standing in the parking lot of Wal-Mart ten miles from home, puke on my daughter, puke in her chair, puke on the leather. People must think I am a great daddy!" As I finish cleaning up (using an entire box of wipes in the process) this, pip-squeak jack-ball son of someone that should have not bred, Wal-Mart cart boy comes up to me to take the cart that is by my car. He asks, "Can I take your cart mister? God what happened to her?!" I do not reply fearing that the foul language would only some day get repeated by my daughter, like, when the Pastor comes for a visit.

Ok, do I go home and make make my daughter ride the 25 minutes home in nasty clothes, yet to make another trip to get diapers? Or do I just buck up and get what I need and be on my way? I decided to go inside and get what I needed. After the greeter at the door lifts of her oxygen mask to tell me that the bathrooms are on my right "so's you can clean up yer kid!" I felt I might-as-well-of gone home. However, I had made it this far, so I decided to get my daughter a new outfit and just change her, then go about our business. I found an outfit, went through the "you check yourself out line" and headed for the bathroom.

Once I get into the bathroom I see that there is actually a baby changing station in the men's room. "Cool" I thought, "now I wont have to change her in this nasty floor." WRONG, as I pull the baby changing station open some A$%hole has wiped human waste all over it and put it back up so that the next person would get a surprise. Begrudgingly, I pulled off my polo shirt and placed it on the floor, changed her clothes on it it, and placed all of the nasty clothes (including my polo shirt) in the Wal-Mart bag we got with her outfit. Finally we can get on with what we need to do.

As we get our stuff and go through the checkout, Wal-Mart Security (read teenager in street clothes with a two-way radio and an attitude) stops me and asks me to empty all of my bags and provide receipts for all of the merchandise I have on my person. Needless to say I let him sift through the pile of puked on clothes without warning him of their contents with a smile on my face. After a few moments of him pouring over everything I asked if we could leave. He said yes and we are out the door to the SHO.

As I safely pull in the driveway after seeing all the wreckers and emergency response vehicles crowding the west bound lanes I feel that nothing was going to happen and all is well again. After explaining to my wife the entire story, and why our daughter is wearing new clothes she tells me to sit down...OH CRAP!!! My heart begins to pound, sweat begins to drip... She says, "You're going to be a daddy again!"

Whew, finally some good news!

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