Daddy had come into some money, so he immediately set to thinking what he had to spend it on. That was the way he thought. If you had money, you had to buy something. He finally settled on three things: a big Ford Truck, the biggest cab-over camper it could carry and a fine Ford tractor. The total of these items was three times his windfall, but that was the way he did things. Angered at the amount he’d spent, Mother ordered six pair of slacks and matching blouses from Montgomery-Ward. He raged at her extravagance. That was also the way they did things.
Anyway, back to the truck and camper. They set off on the typical American road trip. Daddy quickly found the big camper, though rated for that truck, was really too big and made the truck hard to handle. Even passing eighteen wheelers buffeted it about on the interstate. Imagine the challenge it presented on narrow mountain passes. Once, when they decided to go to Pike’s Peak, he unloaded it and left it in the RV camp, not wanting to deal with the excitement.
After they’d been travelling long enough that the refuse tank on the camper had reached near capacity, he pulled up to a dumping station in a national park to empty it. Never one to read directions, he knew he could figure out how it worked on his own, relying on his “common sense.”
He flipped a switch, and “Voila!” The tank emptied on the pad at the dumping station, its contents, solid and liquid, streamed across the busy road. Mother puttered nearby and noticed what he’d done, but didn’t get the big picture. “Why did you dump it here? Is it supposed to go here?”
Meanwhile, passing cars zipped through the refuse, flinging tissue and other unpleasant souvenirs up to await the nearest carwash! Daddy was in a panic, trying to get Mother to hush and get in the truck so they could flee the scene before his ghastly error was caught by a ranger. Mother nattered on, trying to figure out why he’d dumped the tank there, until she realized he was about to leave without her. All’s well that ends well. They managed to get away Scott-free as Mother dug out the instruction book and Daddy fumed.
Sounds just like my husband! Instructions are never read until something goes wrong 🙂 I’ve now learnt that the first thing to ask when he starts ranting and complaining is has he read the instructions. Somehow, that question is not very well received, and here’s me just trying to be helpful 🙂
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Day late and dollar short never made anyone happy.
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I remember my dumping days all too well.
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Easy to mess up!
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Reblogged this on Nutsrok.
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I drove to about 12,000 ft up Pikes Peak. Wise move leaving the camper at the bottom !
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Too funny! Sounds like a “Cousin Eddie” moment! Lol!
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They had many of those. Will post another tomorrow about when the whore girls found a date for my teenage sister and her friend.
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😀 — Suzanne J.
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That is a very funny story. I enjoyed it – all 3 times that it appeared in the same post (you might want to check that – silly WordPress).
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Thanks. I probably did something dumb. Better check.
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…. and fumed…. 😲
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Well it WAS all her fault, after all.
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Sure!!! Whose fault else….
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Couldn’t have been his!
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Never!!! Sounds kind like my father and my husband…. lol
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Been there, done that!
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High five, Linda ✋
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