We told the kids at breakfast on Monday that we were going to the beach for a couple of days, loaded up and headed out. The Quilter had a GPS, and it was taking us through the back roads to get to Panama City. Really, that's the only way to get anywhere from Gigi's, she lives that far away from everything. We've been driving for about an hour. We're obviously in the middle of nowhere, all we've seen for 15 minutes is open space or forest. Some houses, but nothing you could call a town. And it hits me. I'm going to have to go. I'm going to have to go SOON. So I calmly inform A that a potty break is going to have to happen, soonish. She suggests I call and tell the Suburban, since they've got the GPS and are in front us. I call, and The Quilter exclaims,
"The next town isn't for 9 miles!"
My pressing need becomes an all out Code Red have to go nownownownow! I tell her we are going to have to pull over, because this has become like childbirth- it's going to happen whether we want it to or not.
She asks me if I really want to go in the bushes, and as I say this, I realise it's true.
"I've got a white knuckled grip on the phone, and the console and I'm raising myself off the seat, WE HAVE TO PULL OVER!"
Panic hits the drivers and they begin swerving from one side of the road to the other. This is not an exagerration, these two SUV's are going from the South lane all the way over to the North lane and back, trying to find a bush that isn't in someone's yard. Crazy enough, we happened to be in the only area in 50 miles to have more than 2 houses per square mile. The landscape was all open fields, and everytime we saw a bush or tree, it turned out to be someone's yard. As we bob and weave, I look in the rearview and scream, "WHY ARE THERE CARS BEHIND US???!!" It's 10 am on Monday in the middle of nowhere, and there are 5 cars watching us drive like Burt Reynolds in Smokey and the Bandit. All of the sudden, The Quilter takes off down a side street, and this is how far off the beaten path we are - it's not paved, it's sand! And so, now I'm gritting my teeth and clenching my cheeks as we bump down this road. On my left up ahead I see a dilapitated church, boarded up and overgrown with trees and weeds.
"Pull over there!" I shout to A.
"You'll go in a church parking lot?" Asks A, horrified.
"YES!" I screech.
As she gets closer, I see past the treeline, which went to the very edge of the road. And there's a newer looking church, with a sign that has service times.
"Pull in there, Pull in there! Maybe the office is open!" I cry out to A. As she whips(and she now has plenty of experience whipping her vehicle after following The Teacher & The Quilter across the country) into the church parking lot, there they sit, like angels from heaven.
Oh, how He loves me! What a beautiful thing! I trucked it, barefoot, into one. Okay, I'm one of those people that would rather DIE than use a porta potty. It's abhorant enough to me that even in that state, I took the time to inspect before plopping down. It seemed...clean. The Teacher comes to the outside and stands, snickering, waiting for me to come out so she can get a picture. Which is fine, that's what I would be doing if it were someone else. As I sit, I notice the toilet paper is brand new; it's still stuck to itself. I look up, and see the service record. And this is when the love of God overwhelmed me. The porta potty had been serviced the day before! Oh, Heavenly Father, you DO love me! And that's what I said to The Teacher. She laughed and continued to wait patiently for me to come out for my picture.
Ahh, what a great moment! A wrote a very nice note letting the church know that while on an Indy - PCB trip, we had a potty emergency, and were grateful that God had provided. I hope they got it, and they got the humor in the situation. Once back in the car and on the road, I called Bry-D, OF COURSE! I mean, you can't have something this hilarious happen and not share it with your spouse! Quick sidebar- I did not have cell service at Gigi's, even though everyone else did. I had done all the things Bry-D asked me too, and still had to borrow other people's phones to call him. End sidebar. I tell him this great story, and guess what he says?
"So you still don't have service?"
That poo-poo head ruined my joke.