Smelling Like Pee Near Cute Boys
I’m working on this super secret project (I’m only saying that to make it sound cool, honestly) and I was trying to mine my past in order to get some material.
Warning: Mining my past for material is such a bad idea.
Sparty the Dog: Don’t do it, Carrie! It’s not worth it.
Sorry, Sparty, an authentic writer has to do what she has to do. Plus, I need to blog.
The set-up:
I was in seventh grade.
My stepfather had just died. It was my brother’s wedding.
I was totally in love with Tim, my much older (at an ancient 22) step-cousin. He had nice hair and really white teeth.
The dress:
Was two sizes too big. I lost a lot of weight because my dad died.
Was this Pepto-Bismol pink
Required a hoop skirt.
Had fake flowers for shoulder straps.
Was tiered like a wedding cake.
It vaguely looked like this:
Crossed with this:
What happened:
Right before the wedding, at the house of the parents of the bride, I put on my horrible gown. It sagged everywhere, including where my breasts were (still are, actually. My breasts have not. I repeat: HAVE NOT moved) and the maid of honor was trying to duct tape the side in. It didn’t really work and the tape was scratching. Then when we were heading out to the car I picked up their dog, Midge. It turns out you are not supposed to pick up Midge. Why?
Midge pees.
Midge peed all over the dress. There was this dark stain, going down the side of my pink atrocity. My cousin Tim was totally going to see me in this dress that now had PEE on it! PEE!
Cue: Mother of the bride swearing.
Cue: Maid of Honor yelling, “YOU PICKED UP MIDGE! JESUS! JESUS!”
They rushed me inside, dabbed at me with a face cloth and then dried me with a hair dryer and sprayed a whole lot of Lysol on me. It was fragrant and killed airborne bacteria, but it didn’t mask the smell of the Midge.
Me: I smell like pee.
Bride: YOU. SMELL. FINE.
Father of the Bride: She smells like piss.
Cue: Maid of Honor spraying lilac perfume all over me on top of the Lysol.
So, I went to the wedding smelling like Lysol, lilac and pee. My super cute cousin asked me to dance. I was in Heaven. He leaned in. I was in Super Heaven of Awesomeness. My step cousin of the handsome hair was leaning in. I am ready to die of bliss.
He says, “Does it smell like urine?”
Warning: Mining my past for material is such a bad idea.
Sparty the Dog: Don’t do it, Carrie! It’s not worth it.
Sorry, Sparty, an authentic writer has to do what she has to do. Plus, I need to blog.
The set-up:
I was in seventh grade.
My stepfather had just died. It was my brother’s wedding.
I was totally in love with Tim, my much older (at an ancient 22) step-cousin. He had nice hair and really white teeth.
The dress:
Was two sizes too big. I lost a lot of weight because my dad died.
Was this Pepto-Bismol pink
Required a hoop skirt.
Had fake flowers for shoulder straps.
Was tiered like a wedding cake.
It vaguely looked like this:
Crossed with this:
What happened:
Right before the wedding, at the house of the parents of the bride, I put on my horrible gown. It sagged everywhere, including where my breasts were (still are, actually. My breasts have not. I repeat: HAVE NOT moved) and the maid of honor was trying to duct tape the side in. It didn’t really work and the tape was scratching. Then when we were heading out to the car I picked up their dog, Midge. It turns out you are not supposed to pick up Midge. Why?
Midge pees.
Midge peed all over the dress. There was this dark stain, going down the side of my pink atrocity. My cousin Tim was totally going to see me in this dress that now had PEE on it! PEE!
Cue: Mother of the bride swearing.
Cue: Maid of Honor yelling, “YOU PICKED UP MIDGE! JESUS! JESUS!”
They rushed me inside, dabbed at me with a face cloth and then dried me with a hair dryer and sprayed a whole lot of Lysol on me. It was fragrant and killed airborne bacteria, but it didn’t mask the smell of the Midge.
Me: I smell like pee.
Bride: YOU. SMELL. FINE.
Father of the Bride: She smells like piss.
Cue: Maid of Honor spraying lilac perfume all over me on top of the Lysol.
So, I went to the wedding smelling like Lysol, lilac and pee. My super cute cousin asked me to dance. I was in Heaven. He leaned in. I was in Super Heaven of Awesomeness. My step cousin of the handsome hair was leaning in. I am ready to die of bliss.
He says, “Does it smell like urine?”