I am the third type.
The wish I was, but really am not, sort.
I blame the sand.
Anyway, I bit the bullet and decided to go to the beach the other day with my friends and family. Normal beach stuff happened: sunscreen, fistfuls of Doritos, bikini judging, my kids building sand couches…yes, I said couches. They can’t be normal kids and build sand castles. A bit telling, don’t you think?
Anyway. It was a normal beach day.
I got stung by a jellyfish.
Just like that episode of Friends…or any other time someone has gotten stung by a jellyfish.
Me, not being an over-reactor at all, was convinced that I was about to die. I basically started wheezing and planning my funeral.
But then reality hit me. Monica got stung by a jellyfish and Chandler peed on her and saved her life.
I hurried back to the beach where MY friends were lounging, and casually asked if they had any pee to spare.
After an awkward moment, they all avoided eye contact and said, “uhh yeah..no..ummm…I…ummm just peed in the ocean”. I’m not sure if they were more embarrassed about peeing in the ocean or the prospect of peeing on me.
Of course my husband offered, but I could never allow that to happen. Sometimes there are places that relationships shouldn’t go. It’s a hard limit of mine.
So, yeah, all my friends left me for dead.
By the grace of God I made it out alive, no thanks to my “friends”. I really need a Chandler in my life.
Life lesson: Next time you are at the beach, maybe don’t pee in the ocean…you never know when it will save a life. Plus, it’s just nasty.
Are you hungry yet?
Sorry about all the pee talk it’s all so unladylike.
Let’s talk food.
Just mix some cake mix, an egg and some melted butter together and press it into a pan…