Weak As Piss.

Yesterday I woke up as fresh as a proverbial daisy. I got the kids sorted out, made the sandwiches, stood on the scale, swore at the scales and selected a fresh white shirt to wear. 

Because I was feeling so chipper.

I drove the kids to school, as I was going straight on to meet my friend, The Divine Ms M, to have our hooves attended to and discuss the news of the day.

After waving off my offspring I noticed a friend of mine just up ahead. I tooted to alert her to the fact that I wanted her to come over to the car. I was not willing to leave it, as I was still scarred from a recent incident involving the parking inspector

My friend looked exhausted, bags under her eyes and wearing her husbands t-shirt. Which is why I adore her. She doesn’t give a rats.

Well, to be honest, she does have a newborn and 3 lively young sons.

I asked her how she was.
She opened her mouth and a veritable Niagara Falls of profanity was unleashed.

Turns out, her husband had embraced the tradition of Melbourne Cup Drinking with much enthusiasm. He arrived home at 10.30pm, quite incoherent, while my mate had been dealing with her tribe, one of whom had been vomiting. She was not thrilled with the whole scene.

She asked me how I was feeling. I told her I was on top of the world, as I had not taken to the tipple during the day as I was responsible and busy and important. 
Anyway, back to my mate, who by this stage was going through the details of her and her husbands exchanges, which were very colourful it would seem. And there I was, nodding and smiling along, sitting in my car. All very sensible and holier than tho-ish because I was as fresh as could be, and had a solid 8 hours sleep, was hungover free and had a partner who did not speak Swahili.

All of a sudden a cup of water fell from the sky, landing on my arm and down the inside drivers side door of Sonia Kluger.

At first I was confused. I asked my mate “What was that?” thinking it might have been some water dripping from an overhanging tree.

She looked up and gleefully informed me that a very large bird had just shat on me. Shat a bucketload.

A bird with an strangely angled rectum it would seem, whose aim was spectacular. I mean, who gets shat on when they are sitting IN A CAR!

I have a stomach as weak as piss. A lot of squealing and dry wrenching ensued, with my mate being as helpful as could be. By standing there and laughing.

Later I met The Divine Ms M, still a bit traumatised. I was not feeling so fresh. I told her what had happened and she had a piece of advice that I thought I would share with you.

Never feel so good about yourself that you get smug, 
because it will come back at you in the form of an animal defecating on you.

Do you agree?
Have you ever been smug, only to have it blow up in your face?
Or down your arm?