Dad’s I Took a Crap Tour of the Natchez Trace
I didn’t think my parents could traumatize me anymore. I mean, didn’t we leave all that drama behind in our teen years? As adults, aren’t our parents supposed to be normal?
“I took a crap behind that tree. Right there.”
“And, I peed up that hill there.”
“DAD, I DON’T CARE WHERE YOU—”
“I got about to go back right there, and I rode all the way to the end of that road, and there was people there, so I came all the way back and went down the other road several miles, and when I got to the end and squatted, there was one of them cun dumbs.”
“A WHAT??” Mom’s perverted expression said it all. “OH………YOU MEAN A CONDOM.”
“Yep. One of them cun dumbs.”
Mom cut her eyes sideways, lustiness etched all over her face. “Was it used?”
“Don’t know. I didn’t get down and examine it.”
I curled up in a ball in the backseat, plugged up my ears, and chanted, “IamnothearingthisIamnothearingthisIamnothearingthis” all the way back to Tupelo.
Click here to see the best photos from Day 22 of my Natchez Trace 444-mile walk: Andra Watkins Tumblr
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Today’s Reader Question. About timing.