I will never forget the day that Julie and I ended up covered in human sewage. It happened over two decades ago, but I recall it as if it were yesterday.

I was 10 years old and it was a warm summer day. My four younger siblings and I were thrilled when my mom announced that we were having company over that night. Glen and Novella were coming with their four kids Jessie, Jenny, Julie, and Mike. My parents and Glen and Novella had been friends for years and enjoyed getting together on a monthly basis to drink beer and play cards. All of us kids got along great and looked forward to our times together as well!

Us kids were real good about entertaining ourselves and that day we decided it would be fun to play with the lawn tractor. We pulled out multiple wagons, triciclyes, big wheels and jump ropes from the garage. We then proceeded to connect all of them behind the lawn tractor, creating a makeshift train. We were pretty proud of ourselves! My brother David started out as the "conductor" he expertly drove us around the yard as we hooted and hollered in delight, lo and behold our train was really working! Soon, my younger brother Brian, wanted a shot at being conductor. He was pretty young at the time, maybe 5 or, so Mike, who was a couple years older then him, let him sit on his lap and do the steering.

Julie and I were riding together in the red wagon at the very back of the train, the caboose, if you will. I remember feeling concerned that my little brother Brian was now at the wheel. He was always a bit of a troublemaker. I became more concerned as he began driving in circles around the open sewage puddle that we had in our yard. For those of you who are scratching your heads, let me educate you. We grew up in a very old farmhouse in the country. This place did not have a modern sewage system in place. When we flushed our toilet it did not go to a fancy tank under the ground, oh no, instead it went through pipes that came out into the yard. Yes, totally gross, I know. Up to code? Probably not. Unsanitary..you betcha. As children, we were all taught to stay away from the sewage puddle. It was quite large, probably 15 feet long and 5 feet wide or so. When we were out playing ball, frisbee, or tag, we always made sure to keep a safe distance away from the sewage puddle. It was gross and stinky.

Anyways, Brian thought he was pretty funny as he drove closer and closer to the sewage puddle. All of us kids being pulled behind were beginning to get nervous. I began yelling at him telling him he was getting to close, that's when it happened. He looked back at me, flashed a devilish grin, and took a sharp turn causing the little red wagon at the back of the train, you know, the one containing Julie and myself, to flip over..yep..Splash, or perhaps more like splat, or squelch. Just imagine a disgusting sound mixed with high pitched little girl screams. Julie and I were covered head to toe in sewage. Poop, pee, all the disgusting things that get flushed down the toilet all over us. It. Was. Disgusting.

We pulled ourselves from the stinky sludge and ran crying and screaming all the way to the house. Our moms came out on the deck, winecoolers in hand, to see what all the commotion was about. As soon as they saw us they burst out laughing! Not the response we were looking for! Once the laughter had subsided my mom had a disturbing realization occur to her. We wouldn't be able to bathe, seeing as how my Dad and Glen were working on the plumbing inside the house and had turned off the water! Our sheep's drinking trough was suggested to us as a source of water to clean our stinky selves. I telll you folks, I am a fairly good fiction writer, but one can simply not make this kind of stuff up. Julie and I headed towards the shed and proceeded to splash water tainted with sheep saliva all over our dirty bodies.

Once we were recognizable again as children, rather than poop monsters, we ambled back towards the house with revenge on our minds. Brian was going to get it. Lucky for Brian, he was smart and quick. I saw a flash of him out of the corner of my eye as he dashed into the woods to hideout until we had cooled down a bit. The poor thing, it has been over two decades and he is still hiding in those woods, to afraid to show his face. I would be too if I were him. That smell lingers a long time.

Ok, just kidding about that last part. Brian eventually came out and apologized to us for being a turd. We forgave him and I ended up going over to Julie's house that night for a sleepover. She showered and I didn't. I decided the sheep drinking water had been good enough for me. Yep, I was that kid. No I don't have hepatitis and yes I am suprised that I don't.

There are various lessons to take away from this story. First, make sure you properly deal with human sewage or your children, or someone else's children, will find a way to become covered in it. Second, do not let a five year old drive a lawn tractor unsupervised with a slew of children behind him, nothing good can come of that. Finally, the big take away, forgiveness and humor. If you have siblings, you must learn the art of forgiveness and learn to laugh things off. If you are not able to do these two things you will be deep in doo doo and take it from me and Julie, being deep in doo doo is NOT where you want to be!

#humansewageisgross

#yesisurvivedthat

#deepindoodoo

#mychildhoodwasdifferentthanmost

#thegoodolddays

#thatsmelllingers

#littlebrothers

If studies show that the majority of people consider themselves above average, then one must understand the individual.

For example, an artist would likely think of her artistic skills and consider how compared to the majority of people she is quite the talented painter. She can't fathom how some people can hardly draw a stick figure to save their lives while she can paint a portrait so realistic, you could mistake it for a photo. No doubt she is above average.

Meanwhile, the carpenter looks around at the majority of people and scratches his head at how ignorant they are. Even birds build their own nests he thinks to himself. How is it that these people must rely upon me to build their homes. He could practically build a house in his sleep, meanwhile the majority of people can barely pound a nail into the wall to hang a picture. He naturally concludes that he is indeed above average. 

The gardener, busy in her garden harvesting her heirloom tomatoes, digging up carrots, and potatoes, considers how the majority of her neighbors don't even have gardens. She grows and preserves all of her produce. She is certain her neighbors would come flocking to her if ever the supermarket shelves were empty. Clearly, she is above average.

The CEO of a fortune five hundred company looks down upon the city from his lavish office. He could buy his own island if he chose to do so. Clearly his ability to make more money than the average person is an obvious sign of his superiority. 

The hermit living in the woods apart from society has no need for anyone but himself. He is able to survive with out money or help from anyone. He is completely self reliant and quite certain that he is above average.

The writer, sits at her computer considering how the majority of people cannot understand why the majority of people consider themselves above average. 

The answer seems oh so obvious to her, no doubt she is above average.

          She checks her email for the 18th time that day, "This is the last time." she lies to herself. Her heart begins to race as soon as she sees: Re: article submission. She quickly clicks to open what she hopes and prays will be a yes to her most recent article she's submitted to yet another magazine. An article that took her about four hours to compile around 1,000 words. Four hours of pouring out her heart and soul via the computer keys as her children begged for her attention. She would look up from time to time to acknowledge their silly antics and break up sibling squabbles. She didn't reread her own work as much as she knew she should, before she submitted it. She hopes the editor doesn't mind editing.

          She prays they accept this work of hers because truthfully, she could really use the money. She's beginning to consider putting her writing dreams on the shelf and getting a more stable job, or perhaps selling off the majority of her possessions. She wants to pay off her debt, sell her house, buy some land, grow food, and spend more quality time with her children. She doesn't want to check her email 18 times a day only to have her hopes come crashing down the moment she reads the polite rejection notice, like the one that's come today.

           Tears quietly slide down her cheeks. It's not just her writing that's been rejected, it's her. She isn't smart enough, not creative enough, she just isn't enough. She hears her daughter calling out from the other room, quickly she dries her eyes, takes a deep breath and goes to attend to her child. "At least I'm enough for her." she thinks. She'd rather receive a thousand emails rejecting her written thoughts, than do her children wrong and someday be rejected by them. 

          Some of them loved him, some of them hated him, as for myself, I didn't trust him. Of course, as a rule I don't trust royalty. My motto is, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. My family instilled this in me. You see, we are farmers. We work the land, and care for our livestock. Simple and honest work. We don't like to impose our will on others and we don't like them to impose their will on us. Simply put, we mind our own business as best we can. At the end of the day, we bow our heads and give thanks to the Lord Almighty for all that we have.  

          When King Lucifer claimed the throne many of those around us gave a sigh of relief. He promised he'd redistribute the wealth so that none of us commoners would ever go hungry. He also promised to build a great wall around our kingdom so as to keep our enemies out. 

True to his word, a great wall was built around our kingdom. Many of our friends were joyful and claimed they felt a sense of peace knowing our enemies would be kept out. All I could think was, "Do they ever question why we have enemies to begin with?"My father would privately lament that it was because so many of the previous kings had sent soldiers into foreign lands to plunder their resources for many prior years.

         As far as the wealth redistribution, this also came true. However, it was mainly us farmers, and our skilled friends who were forced to distribute our goods to the King, his soldiers, and their families. Many of the young men of our village proudly signed up to be King Lucifer's soldiers. It meant 3 meals a day without having to work in the fields.

          As King Lucifer's army and wall grew, so did our kingdom's enemies. Soon the enemies weren't just outside of our walls, but inside as well. Of course it didn't take much to become an enemy of King Lucifer's. If you were a soldier and refused to fight in battle, you were an enemy. If you didn't give at least half of your produce, livestock, or goods, to the royal crown, you were an enemy. If you criticized King Lucifer, his kingdom, or army in any way, you were an enemy. We quit saying prayers aloud, as King Lucifer felt that God didn't deserve thanks for keeping us safe and alive, but rather he. If we didn't bow in his presence, it meant imprisonment. Our prison became so full that soon they began public hangings on a daily basis. People began trying to escape, but with the heavily guarded wall in place, it was futile.

You never knew what was going to come out of her mouth. She could swear like a sailor, and in the next breath belt out Amazing Grace so sweetly it could make a grown man cry. Her children didn't quite trust her. Would she spank them soundly and send them to bed, or snuggle up and read as many books as their little hearts desired?

If you asked 10 different people to describe her, you'd get 10 completely different descriptions. "She is such a kind, sweet, and patient mother." one might say. "I don't like her, never have and never will." says another. "A goofball, she always makes me laugh." the next explains. "That girl is way to serious and judgmental!" asserts another. From another mouth comes, "She is so pretty, I am jealous!" as a surprised friend says, "Really? I think she is homely!" " From the next, "Oh, her..she is such a health nut!" "A bit of an alcoholic, I believe." claims another. "She's a face painter." announces another, the next describes her as, "The beekeeper." yet another would say "She is a writer." 

Sometimes, she looks in the mirror and she feels she is looking at a stranger. Who are you she asks, but the stranger just shrugs.

"Say it ain't so!"

"Didn't you kids wonder why you only had one set of grandparents?"

"We thought the others died before we was born!"

"Didn't you wonder why your ma and I were both in Grandpappy and Meemaw's family photo album as kids?"

"We thought that you two was neighbors!"

"Well I suppose we may have told a few white lies over the years..Just trying to protect you kids of course. The world doesn't take kindly to incest."

"May we be excused from the table Auntie Ma and Uncle Pa? We can't stomach our turkey no more."

There, I said it, well wrote it at least. I can't actually tell anyone or my Dad could end up in prison, or worse. That is, of course, if anyone is left to convict him. Sorry, let me gather my thoughts and start from the beginning. It's been pretty crazy lately, so you'll have to forgive me. My Dad has been raising sheep and selling their wool for quite a few years now. Unfortunately, we have a lot of wolves and coyotes around these parts, and they've been attacking our sheep on a weekly basis. We used to have a great guard dog, but he got old and died. Instead of training a new dog, my Dad, (who is not your typical dad) decided it was time our sheep learn how to defend themselves. He began researching genetic modification, and insisting that we would become rich once he could create a type of sheep that could fend off predators on its own. My mom seemed concerned from the get go, but once my dad gets an idea in his head there is no stopping him! Day and night dad would be out in the barn, which we began to refer to as the lab. He ordered lots of stuff online, beakers, hotplates, test tubes, a microscope, you name it and he probably had it out in the barn. One day, after school, I headed to the "lab" to see what he was up to. I walked in to see a live wolf in a cage! Dad said he shot him with a tranquilizer when he caught him attacking one of our sheep. I watched as he plunged a syringe deep into the wolf's thigh, and sucked up the bright red blood. He asked me to hand him a bottle of formaldehyde as he squirted the wolf blood into the centrifuge. He was pretty excited that night and said he would be conducting live trials in the following days. A few days later I went out to check on the sheep. One of our Ewe's was about ready to lamb and I wanted to be there when it happened. As I came up to the pasture, I saw a horrific sight. A ram was gnawing on the newly born lamb. The mother Ewe was bleating and charging at the ram, who just went on eating the little lamb! I started screaming for Dad, who quickly came running from the barn with his tranquilizer gun. He shot the ram but it only aggravated him! The ram ran right through our electric fence and began chasing after my dad and I! We ran into the house and shut the door. Peering out the window, we watched as the crazed sheep kept ramming his head against the door. Dad said he was going to sneak out the backdoor and head to the barn to get his shot gun. He told my mom to keep us kids inside the house. My mom, my 4 younger siblings, and I, continued to watch the ram as my dad hightailed it for the barn. Suddenly, the Ram lost interest in the door and turned towards the neighbor's yard where the neighbor kids had just come outside to play. He took off in their direction. We opened the door and began yelling at the kids to go back inside! They were so busy throwing a football back and forth, that they didn't notice the ram before it was to late! The ram pushed my neighbor, Nick, to the ground and chomped down hard on his arm! His brother, Adam, whipped the football as hard as he could and hit the ram in the head. The ram promptly turned towards Adam and was about to charge towards him, just as my dad fired his gun and shot the sheep right in the head. He fell to the ground. Dad apologized to the neighbor kid's parents, who were just thankful my Dad had taken out the sheep when he had. Nick had a pretty nasty bite mark on his arm, but his Mom is a nurse, and she didn't think it would need stitches. Just some peroxide and gauze. Dad didn't tell the neighbor's about his experiments, I guess he was embarrassed. He said something about that Ram being odd since birth. Dad dragged the dead sheep back home, and into the barn. He said he planned to run some tests on it the next day. When I got on the bus in the morning, I thought Nick looked kind of pale. I asked him how his arm was and he snapped, "It's fine!" I said, "Ok," and turned towards my brother David. What a crab!" I whispered, "He's probably just acting tough," said David, "I bet he's embarrassed by it." "I guess getting bit by a sheep is kind of embarrassing." I whispered back. Later, during recess, Nick ended up biting a bunch of boys he was playing tackle football with. He bit them so hard he drew blood! He got sent to the principal's office, where I hear, he even bit the principle! His parent's had to come and pick him up, and they brought him to the ER. I know this, because they called my Dad, and he told us that they wanted him to have the dead ram tested for rabies. After that phone call, my dad headed out to the barn to take a sample from the Ram. Soon, he came back yelling to get in the van. Apparently, the ram was alive again and attacking the other sheep! Sure, it had a hole in it's head, but that wasn't stopping it! My mom wanted to know where we were going and my Dad said "Anywhere but here!" After driving for several hours we arrived at a trailer in the woods. My Dad said it's his cousin's hunting shack. He said we have to stay here for a while, until he comes up with a plan. We've been here for about a week. We've been eating a lot of peanut butter and stale saltines. That's what we found in the trailer. Yesterday we caught and ate a large snapping turtle, it was actually pretty tasty! I like not having to go to school, although I do miss my friends, running water, electricity and television. There's a battery operated radio here that we've been listening to. It sounds like it's become a real zombie apocalypse out there! The country is now under marshal law! They are trying to quarantine the infected, but it's a challenge! If we don't make it, and someone out there finds this diary, just know that we're really sorry! My dad is currently working on an antidote. In fact he is injecting my brother David with a mixture of pond scum, and dove blood at this very moment. Oh, did I forget to mention that David got bit? He was one of the boys playing football with Nick during recess. He didn't tell us he got bit, I guess he was embarrassed. We figured it out the next day when he bit my sister Sherry. Don't worry, we have them chained up here in the trailer! I'm sure my Dad will find a cure! I've got to go now, my dad wants me to find willow tree bark and a salamander. Wish me luck!

Humpty Dumpty wasn't broken in the beginning.

Perhaps neither are we.

Not until we fall and break into pieces that is. 

Although some might say that is when life begins.

When we break free from our shells.

Unless we have no internal life.

Is there life in your shell? 

If so, live fearlessly.