This morning the kids and I planned to wake early and leave our little cabin up the Frio River here in Texas. Yesterday we packed the pop-up, cleaned up the cabin completely, and left out only our duffle bags and breakfast food.
Upon waking, I encountered a site that the family, as a whole, has sworn to never discuss either in public or private. Let’s just say there were two rolls of paper towels, bleach and a trip to the Laundromat involved before we could even eat our oatmeal. And that’s all we’ll say about that. Whatever you think happened, multiply it times ten.
I threw up a post on Facebook about how the day could only get better from there, a statement one should never say out loud, and headed down the road towards the beaches of Texas.
Now, we were in the “mountains” so to speak, up the Frio River in Concan. So as we headed south, the heat hit, and clothes started coming off. Windows cranked down, (all six of them) hair frizzing in the damp heat, air condition pumped up even though it doesn’t work and only blew more warm air, as we drove a couple of hours south. We don’t really understand the term “Winter” as it applies here in Texas. I don’t think it means what they think it means.
I pulled into a Walmart Parking lot in Jourdanton, Texas to pick up some water bottles and walk the dogs. Turns out, I waited a bit too long to stop. I pulled open the back hatch of the camper shell and the stench emitting from inside told the story. Beezy…had let loose. All. Over. The Place.
I pulled the two dogs from the back and quickly unhooked leashes they’d dragged through the poo, dropping them in a pile while Mya hooked the longer cable to each collar. I stared into the back of the truck. The kids stared at me. We all wondered the same thing…Just how much could we get for it right here in the Walmart parking lot?
As I yelled out orders, my feet began to burn. What the…? I looked down at my flip-flops to find my bare feet completely coated in tiny ants.
And then I did the very volatile “ants-on-me” dance while strings of filth flew from my mouth. I don’t feel even God would judge me for that one.
I bolted into Walmart, eyes focused on the Pharmacy signs, found the nearest fellow in white and whined until he pulled a salve off the shelf. And then I did some more dancing while he told me at length…in monotone…how and why the salve works for what I now know are Texas Fire Ants, better known to me as Evil Ants from Hades.
Armed with the salve of my salvation, a case of paper towels and a fierce frustration with my day, I went back to the truck to begin to clean.
“Did you guys pick up those leashes?” I asked the kids when I noticed the crap-covered leashes I’d left near the lawn were gone. They stared at me because that’s what kids do when asked such complicated questions.
Apparently, while I was inside the Walmart, somebody had stolen our leashes from the ground.
Our stinking, crap-coated, dollar-ninety-nine leashes had been swiped by somebody who in order to not be seen, would have had to stop their car, quickly reach out and grab the pile from the ground.
Leashes that from a distance I’m sure looked clean to the fast handed thief…but were actually covered in shit.
And that, my friends, is Karma.
An hour later, my feet smeared in gel, dogs somewhat cleaned up and leashless, we moved back on down the road.
We hit the Texas coast just before sundown and went straight to the campground we’d plan to use. But everybody else in Texas had gotten there first because apparently, the weekend of Super Bowl Sunday is a national holiday in Texas and folks flock in droves to the nearest resort area.
I checked us into the only hotel that takes dogs, thankful the room has a tile floor…just in case…and hit the hotel hot tub. And now I’m sipping on the Budweiser they gave me at check-in…that’s right, I was offered a complimentary beer from the front counter girl…and wondering what we’ll do next.
