Let me first tell you a little about ourselves. We are three Bliss ladies, hence the name . Two daughters and a mother who love life: the good, the bad, and the ridiculously funny. Our relationship is very close and with that we have had MANY road trips, and even more goofy stories. We will be gathering our funniest "pee your pants" stories to bring you "Funny Friday". Once a week, right before your weekend freedom arrives, we want to give you an amazing laugh. A gut wrenching, belly aching, you've gotta share it laugh. So let the giggles begin.
Today, our first story is in honor of our #1 Marine, our amazing grandfather who just recently passed away. Today would have been his 84th birthday.
Let's go back to when I was 13. We recently moved from Knoxville, TN to a backwoods tiny Mississippi town, and I wanted to spend the WHOLE summer with my grandparents back in Knoxville. Grandpa decided one sunny afternoon to take my cousin Gideon and I golfing. Let it be said that I have no coordination, so my golfing skills is a big negative. However, I was trusted for the first time to drive the golf cart. Tell them I've never been allowed to drive before? HA! Yeah right.
Choosing my spot behind the wheel, Gideon slides in the middle leaving the golf pro, gramps, on the end. Hole after hole we're off, gliding along admiring the green and conquering the road, aka sidewalk. Wind in my long dark hair and sun on my face, loving this summer day. Only to be thwarted by none other than life itself. Looking up from my wheel to find the road abruptly come to an end, and presented before me the sharpest left curve I've ever seen. You know the kind of curve where a normal human would probably drive through the grass to avert any accidents? Not me, I tightened my ponytail, gritted my metal mouth teeth, and took what life had to offer me.
What do I do? Stop? Slow down? Gun it to try and make it... uh sure, I've seen the Fast and the Furious, which is a definite relation to this golf cart scenario. As our eyes made contact, mine twinkling with mischief & my grandpa's wide with terror, I gun it. Screaming horror erupted beside me as my inner NASCAR champion showed her colors and I bolted around less than a 45 degree curve. It wasn't until after we went two wheels on the curve of death (feeling pretty successful about my skills since we all made it alive) that I realize I'm one less passenger. My grandfather at 70+ years of age went airborne, tucking and rolling about 15 yards down the 10th hole.
With the most dreadful turn of my head I see him laying curled in the fetal position right on the green. "Oh God, I've killed him," was my initial thought. As he started to groan and slowly stood I acknowledged, ok not dead, but I was about to be. His white polo had a bright green grass stain on the left shoulder, a definite limp in his step, and an unreadable look across his face. Many thoughts ran through my head, "Wow he handled that pretty well", "Maybe that wasn't the best idea", "who in the world let ME drive" , and among the most popular "I'm SO DEAD, please don't tell my mom." I look up and he was totally walking so that was a good sign. Hobbling back to the golf cart we all recognized our perfect day was over. I shook with fear, believing the worst, as he looked me right in the eye removing me from my NASCAR seat and his only words were "we will never tell your grandmother" and our pact was made.
We never spoke a word of our adventure to grandma until recently. He kept my secret and my parents never knew I should probably never be behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. Now 15 years later I drive like the grammiest grandma you've ever met. Slow girl in the fast lane, 🙋🏻🙋🏻🙋🏻that's me. I hung up my NASCAR gloves that fateful day in July when I almost killed my grandpa.
Come back next Friday for another laugh!
Have a great weekend all,