A Fond Memory

I was going through some boxes Teena (Mom to normal people) brought by my apartment this afternoon. There was a bunch of crap from grade school that she had in there: my first report card, some old school pictures, etc. Why is it that we didn't get the usual letter grades when I was in elementary school? Instead of A+ or D-, I got crap like S for Satisfactory or U for Unsatisfactory. I can just hear it now. "Hey Teena, how's Dana doing in school this year?" "Oh she's doing great, she's a straight-S student!" I also found my 8th grade yearbook. I flipped through it and read some of the stuff my friends then wrote in it. "Stay cool this summer," "Pearl Jam Rules!" "Boyz II Men will live forever!" and stuff like that. On the back page of the yearbook was this cryptic phrase "Keep the milk away from Wendall!" What the hell does that mean you ask? Well, this phrase was written by T-Bagg himself in reference to a memorable Thanksgiving dinner we had the previous November (1991) that involved my big brother Turk. In my family, it is referred to as "The Incident," and it is never spoken of.

"The Incident" was Turk's infamous sneeze/fart incident at the dinner table when we were having Thanksgiving dinner at our house. Tyson had early dinner with his family and then came over to our place for late dinner. He was as full as a tick from his meal at his house, but my Mom piled his plate so full! You could have fed a family in Darfur for 3 days with what she put in front of him to eat. I thought for sure T-Bird was going to pass out or rupture his stomach! He were so polite it was cute. So as not to be thought of as rude, he dutifully cleaned his plate. Mom kept piling on the seconds and he kept eating it. At one point, his eyes were watering.

Turk is lactose intolerant, so every year, Teena would make a special batch of mashed potatoes with soy milk, just for the Turkster (I tried them once, they sucked). If he doesn't get the right potatoes, he gets as gassy as a Chevron station. He also can't stand black pepper. Anyway, he eats the regular mashed potatoes made with whole milk. He then puts down the 3 bean salad, turkey and stuffing. After about 20 minutes he starts turning green. Those of you that know me know that I have a penchant for fresh ground black pepper. I get my second helping of stuffing, whip out the pepper mill and I'm grinding away like Britney Spears in a dance contest and Turk gets some in his nose. He revs up, kicks back and sneezes and rips out a fart worthy of a Mel Brooks film at the dinner table! Teena turned white and dropped the gravy boat into Grandpa Jack's lap, Grandpa Jack leaps up from the hot gravy on his bits and pieces and knocks the lemonade pitcher on to the floor and Turk, who is now making for the bathroom slips on the spilled lemonade, hits his head on the buffet and is knocked out cold. What a riot! I can't say for sure, but I suspect that when he hit the floor, a little poop came out.

So here's poor T-Zoom, about to burst from 2 huge Thanks giving dinners looking at my brother prostrate and possibly soiled on the floor of the dining room. We're all gagging from the horrendous smell of the fart (a cross between fried chicken, broccoli & sulphur), Grandpa Jack is yelling "Oh my sweet balls are on fire!" and Teena has begun to cry and starts to try to wake Turk up. Now get this. Lamoni (my Dad), cool as a cucumber, stands up, drops his napkin into his chair and says to T-Money "You want some pumpkin pie or can I just give you a lift home?" What moxie, right?!? Like nothing had happened. T-Tree gratefully accepted a ride home. I of course was mortified and avoided him and refused to talk to him for like 2 weeks after that. Now I can look back on all of it and laugh, because I've got to admit it was hilarious. I can also threaten to tell Turk's Marine buddies if Turk gives me too much crap, which is pretty cool too.