And there he goes…

Welcome back to WoopsieDaisey Wednesdays. I wasn’t so sure how this category would pan out, but quite frankly, it amuses me. Turns out I know lots of people who fall and lots of people who have ‘woopsiedaisey’ moments. So it really works out for all of us.

As a matter of fact, I just recently realized that I have a wealth of fall stories in one new friend: PostalService. If she will permit me, I’d love to tell some of those stories in the coming weeks. She too is a squiggly circle and tells stories amazingly, so I might just have to have her be a guest blogger. We will see. I will check with her and then I will be sure to share with you all, one way or another, her amazing stories that kept me laughing as I was trying to fall asleep recently in Vegas.

But for today, I will tell one of my favorite fall stories; one that has become somewhat of a legend. Yes, it involves my step father. And yes, believe it or not, it involves him being drunk. See, I told you that living with an alcoholic has its perks. Despite the heartache, it has provided me with an arsenal of stories. This one included.

So, this story takes place back in the JayHans period. Pre-LemonBass and Pre-our official proclamation of feelings. JayHans and I were in our early teens (or at least I was), maybe around 13. We were flirty, but then again, we were young so what does that really even mean? Basically, it was clear that we had crushes on one another. This might have only been the third time I’d ever met him, I’m not sure. But regardless, we had managed to find ourselves in his family’s hot tub alone. Let me promise you, it was very innocent. Like I said, we were just kids and we hadn’t even admitted to ourselves, let alone each other, that we liked each other. My sister might have even been in there with us. So pretty much we were talking. The rest of the family was not far away, drinking and carrying on in the garage. Like I mentioned, this family knows how to party.

And out of nowhere, here comes my step dad, stumbling up. Now I have probably described this before, but it warrants repeating. My step dad is a DEAD GIVEAWAY. There is never a question of ‘was he drunk last night?’ He is worse than a frat boy. And I don’t understand it because you would think that after a life time of drinking, one might develop somewhat of a resistance to alcohol. I mean, I guess what I can conclude from that is he drinks way more than we can even imagine. And he is not a little guy. He should be able to handle himself better, but he simply can not. He can’t walk. He can hardly stand without swaying. His eyes close. He licks his lips over and over again in the most offensive way and he makes absolutely NO SENSE. So like I said, there is never a question as to whether or not he was drunk. Now, picture if you will, someone whom I have just described, standing in front of you and telling you that they are in fact, NOT drunk. Can you even imagine how frustrating that is?

Again, I digress…

SO here comes drunk step dad with my mom not too far behind. JayHans and I see him coming from a mile away, so we are waiting for the brilliant statement that we are sure is coming. Even still, Step dad still thinks he has surprised us when he finally arrives. JayHans and I are just waiting for it to be over with, whatever it is. Step dad leans over and says:

“What are you two kids doing in…”

And then he passes out. Yes, he passes out mid sentence. I’ve never quite seen anything like it. And because he is not a small man, all that weight has nowhere to go but down. And unfortunately for all parties involved, down is into the hot tub. And there he goes…

This huge man sinks straight to the bottom. There is just no if, and’s or butt’s about it. He is at the bottom. We aren’t sure if he’s hit his head or if he’s had a stroke or what. And JayHans and I are obviously panicked and we are pulling at his clothes and trying to get our hands under him, but not only is he dead weight, he is wedged at the bottom of the spa. If you can picture a spa, imagine the part in the middle where all the feet are meant to go. It’s the smallest part in the spa. Now imagine a huge man, rolled into a ball, literally wedged down in that small space. And it’s dark outside and he is blocking the spa lights. This man doesn’t stand a chance.

But even still, Jay and I are pulling and trying to get our arms down into that space to pop him out, but to no avail. And then, as suddenly as he went out, he wakes up. Try waking up in a tub of hot water, I can only imagine how alarming that must have been. So of course when he wakes up, he nearly takes Jay and I out as he launches up out of the water. We are talking arms flaying, gasping for air, drunkenly trying to climb out. And if I wasn’t so relieved that I wasn’t going to have to live with the fact that I was in a spa with a dead man, I would have been pissed!

But don’t worry, my step dad ALWAYS gives me a reason to be pissed no matter what the circumstances.

He gets out of the spa and turns to Jay and I and says: “They were holding me down!”

What?! Are you kidding me? I laughed. I thought he was joking. He HAD to be joking…

Nope. He was quite serious.

He continued his tirade of how JayHans and I were holding him down and trying to kill him. And then he turns on my mom and accuses her of pushing him in. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t have the motive, but come on! We had just saved this guys life. He is impossible. And if his splash and our sceaming didn’t draw the attention of everyone in the neighborhood, his accusations sure did. He was practically ready to call the cops on us. I mean, this went on and on. All night long he stuck to his story and refused to admit that he even just fell, let alone passed out.

To this day, if you ask him about that story, he holds to the fact that my mom pushed him in and that Jay and I held him down. Now, of course, he will say that he knew it was just a joke, and we wern’t trying to kill him, but he won’t admit the truth. He will NEVER admit that ANYTHING is or was his fault and he certainly would never admit to being drunk that night. It still astounds me, even now.

The only consolation I got was in the morning, when I went out into the back yard, my step dad’s leather wallet was floating in the pool, completely ruined. And just the other night, my sister told me that she ran into a farmer in town that has worked with my step dad. Surprise, surprise, this man has a similar story about how my step dad tried to pin something on him that was actually in fact, my step dad’s fault. Somehow, in some small way, this makes me feel better. Small pleasures I guess, but that’s all I have when it comes to him.