When I was 14, Kath and I went to EFY. She had tapioca pudding back in the dorm, but no spoon to eat it with. What’s a girl to do? As she picked the spoon up off the dining hall table and put it in her pocket - at that exact moment – the fire alarm went off. Big, yelling sirens. “Kath, put it back! Put it back!” Like, duh, Teresa – the spoon is rigged? Cameras saw it? Please. With a slight hesitation, she put the spoon right back into her Limited brand, denim jacket. And now, I was aiding and abetting a criminal. Great.
At the Canadian border, my visits go (or, shall I say, went – like this)Citizenship?
U.S. Well, my dad’s Canadian. Well, now he’s American, but he was born in Canada. Oh, uh – but now were both Americans. Not that being Canadian is a bad thing, it’s just that…
Ma’am, where is your place of residence?
Seattle. Well, not really Seattle. It’s a suburb 11 miles north, called Bothell. But, really it’s the greater Seattle area…
Ma’am! Are you bringing anything across the border?
Well, uh, I have some corn nuts and sweet tarts. But not the little ones, the big chewy ones. They’re my favorite. And these are my ‘traveling’ foods. But, not really anything else…
That’s fine, Ma’am. What is the purpose of your visit?
To see my grandma. Well, actually to see her grave. You see, she’s dead. So, we’ll be heading to Surrey, but that’s just her grave. She lived in Cardston…
Ma’am! How long will you be staying in Canada?
Just for the day, well – we might spend the night. And I’m not sure when we’ll be…
Step out of the car and open your trunk, ma’am….
You see? I have a truth problem. And not the kind of truth problem most people think of. The kind where I have to over-tell the truth. I think this is due to some people I have been close to in my life not being the greatest tellers of truth. So, I have to over compensate. Which brings me to the main story of this post, which I will try to tell briefly. So, here goes:
While I did my sentence at Ricks College, I was often looking for trouble. Teresa version of trouble, that is. Like, staying out past curfew. (oh, my!!) Or, not getting clearance to spend the night at a friend’s house. (Heathen!! Hello! I’m 19, living away from home – do I need to ask to spend the night away from my apartment?! Sheesh!) And yes, even – hold the phone, folks, I wore mens jeans to class! Eeek! You heard it here, I broke the honor code by wearing clothes meant for boys. Heaven help us!
One sleepy evening, driving around the town of Rexburg, my friends and I came across a vacant lot. And what did our eyes behold?
A fire hose. Yep, you heard me. An abandoned fire hose.
Well, that was right up my alley. I could certainly find a use for that. And, it was left there. So, I wasn’t really stealing now, was I? Obviously, the fire department didn’t need it anymore. So –‘ into the trunk with you, little fella’. (Actually, it was sooo heavy; we could hardly get that beast into the trunk of my little Mazda 626 - and practically wet our pants we were laughing so hard)
And there he sat. Oh, I had big plans for that baby. Maybe I’d leave him on the front porch of someone, as a funny joke. Perhaps I would hang him from the giant old tree in front of the Spori Building. Oh, yeah…I had plans.
I drove around with that beastly thing in my trunk for weeks. And each night I’d lay in bed and think – what should I do with it? And then, each night, this would happen…
What if the fire department accidentally left it there?
What if they were coming back to get it the next day and it was gone?
It must be expensive to replace a fire hose.
What if there is an emergency and they said, “Don’t worry Joe, we have our spare hose in the vacant lot of 1st?” But really, I had their spare?
See? I have guilt.
So, one night, late into the fall. We drove back to the vacant lot, and replaced the fire hose just as we found it.
And really, I’ll bet it’s still there. Sitting and waiting, all 8,000 pounds of it, to be used as a great practical joke.
Maybe next year, old buddy.
That’s fine, Ma’am. What is the purpose of your visit?
To see my grandma. Well, actually to see her grave. You see, she’s dead. So, we’ll be heading to Surrey, but that’s just her grave. She lived in Cardston…
Ma’am! How long will you be staying in Canada?
Just for the day, well – we might spend the night. And I’m not sure when we’ll be…
Step out of the car and open your trunk, ma’am….
You see? I have a truth problem. And not the kind of truth problem most people think of. The kind where I have to over-tell the truth. I think this is due to some people I have been close to in my life not being the greatest tellers of truth. So, I have to over compensate. Which brings me to the main story of this post, which I will try to tell briefly. So, here goes:While I did my sentence at Ricks College, I was often looking for trouble. Teresa version of trouble, that is. Like, staying out past curfew. (oh, my!!) Or, not getting clearance to spend the night at a friend’s house. (Heathen!! Hello! I’m 19, living away from home – do I need to ask to spend the night away from my apartment?! Sheesh!) And yes, even – hold the phone, folks, I wore mens jeans to class! Eeek! You heard it here, I broke the honor code by wearing clothes meant for boys. Heaven help us!
One sleepy evening, driving around the town of Rexburg, my friends and I came across a vacant lot. And what did our eyes behold?
A fire hose. Yep, you heard me. An abandoned fire hose.
Well, that was right up my alley. I could certainly find a use for that. And, it was left there. So, I wasn’t really stealing now, was I? Obviously, the fire department didn’t need it anymore. So –‘ into the trunk with you, little fella’. (Actually, it was sooo heavy; we could hardly get that beast into the trunk of my little Mazda 626 - and practically wet our pants we were laughing so hard)
And there he sat. Oh, I had big plans for that baby. Maybe I’d leave him on the front porch of someone, as a funny joke. Perhaps I would hang him from the giant old tree in front of the Spori Building. Oh, yeah…I had plans.
I drove around with that beastly thing in my trunk for weeks. And each night I’d lay in bed and think – what should I do with it? And then, each night, this would happen…
What if the fire department accidentally left it there?
What if they were coming back to get it the next day and it was gone?
It must be expensive to replace a fire hose.
What if there is an emergency and they said, “Don’t worry Joe, we have our spare hose in the vacant lot of 1st?” But really, I had their spare?
See? I have guilt.
So, one night, late into the fall. We drove back to the vacant lot, and replaced the fire hose just as we found it.
And really, I’ll bet it’s still there. Sitting and waiting, all 8,000 pounds of it, to be used as a great practical joke.
Maybe next year, old buddy.
2 comments:
Or how 'bout the time you pretended to steal pack of Skittles by trying to shove them down my pants at Shopko and ripped out my belly ring?
First of all I hate skittles, and secondly, why did i have a belly ring? It deserved to be ripped out, even if by accident. Great post. I can totally see you in each scenario and would have peed my pants laughing too if I had been there.
I still can't remember you stealing the fire hose. I must not have been with you. You should have included Sister Ard in those plans somehow. And I remember you wearing boys pants... such a rebel! You are a great story teller
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