Just a bit of back story on today’s post. It happened more than a month ago while we were in Charleston, SC. I haven’t posted it before ’cause it’s not a story I’m proud of. But Everett’s been itching to tell you himself. So … today’s post is from the mouth of Everett. Be warned.
It was a very nice sunny day and we were taking a pleasant bike ride through the Johns Island County Park, which has miles of paved bike paths along the salt marshes and through the woods. Earlier in our ride, we’d gone past a small troop of girl scouts and their leaders who had spent the night in the park campground. They were all about 10 or 12 years old, cute as buttons, and excited to be enjoying their first outdoor adventures. As we came around a corner on the path later in the day, there they were again – posed on a park bench for a group photo. Ethel, affected by the fresh air and thinking she was 20 knowing all the hip internet lingo, got it into her head to “photo bomb” the girls. That’s when you jump uninvited into someone’s picture as a surprise and it apparently is all the rage amongst young folk (though I’ve got no idea why). So off she rides, ready to plunge into the group photo with arms spread wide and a goofy grin on her face – forgetting that she’s never been too successful at balancing the bike even WITH both hands and her full attention. I knew it was going to be a disaster, but one I couldn’t stop. And it was. Ethel went flying ass over teakettle onto the pavement, the bike flipped up and landed on her, the girl scouts froze in shock with eyes wide, and their leaders rushed to the rescue, as I stood shaking my head. End results: Girl scouts are probably emotionally scarred for life, but will never forget their trip to the park; Ethel is bruised from head to toe with skinned knees and palms, but luckily didn’t break anything this time; I had to repair the bike and get us back on the road. Worst of it was that the darned girl scout leaders never even took the photo.