When I was a little girl, my family went to Myrtle Beach every year for a week in the summer. We drove there from whatever state we were living in at the time because we couldn't afford plane tickets. I loved everything about this vacation. We always left in the middle of the night, and my two sisters and I would stay up whispering in bed the night before about how much fun it was going to be. Three or four o'clock in the morning would finally arrive and we would be ready, sitting on the couch in wait for our parents with our suitcases at our feet; each of us smiling from ear to ear.
We were uncharacteristically nice to each other for the first three hours of the car ride, at least. We had self appointed assigned seats in the car; Erin and I lay facing each other at opposite sides of the backseat, toe to head. Holly had the misfortune of the floor and had to maneuver around the bump. We knew not to argue with each other and to talk quietly and not too much or my daddy would "turn this car around and we wouldn't go on vacation at all." These were the "traveling rules" and for the most part, we adhered to them; the thought of turning around and going home was horrific. I liked to watch the street lights streak past us at night as our car zoomed through various cities on the way.
Looking back I'm sure the car ride was anywhere between 12 and 16 hours, but it seemed like it took days to get there in my 10 year old mind. We were only allowed to ask my parents "how much longer" three times total before they would stop answering, so we would discuss very carefully amongst the three of us what the most strategic times were for posing the question. I monitored the time with my Mickey Mouse watch and shared with my sisters at intervals what time it was, what state we were in and why it made sense to ask them at such and such time. They always agreed and after asking, my parents would praise me for my logic behind waiting to ask for this reason and that, which I always pridefully shared with them after the fact. My sisters would glare at me after this exchange between my parents and I as I leaned back in my seat, satisfied with myself as a stray cat licking its paws after a long awaited meal. Erin called me a "know it all" and told my parents they helped decide, too, and Holly swatted at me from the floor. I didn't care at all. They were just jealous.
One year in particular, we arrived at our standard Holiday Inn mid-day. My sisters and I thought it was so fancy that we stayed there. It had an indoor swimming pool that stayed open till 10 pm and even though this was way past our bedtime, my daddy would take us there till close every night if we were "good girls." We loved to swim...our daddy called us "little fishes."
The three of us bounded out of the car as I yelled out a challenge to Erin to race me there. I was tall for my age and all legs at that point and I used them to propel me at top speed for the entrance. I put all my might into that race and felt like I was flying; I couldn't even see her in my peripheral vision I was ahead by so much. All of a sudden, a very loud thud vibrated out into the wind as I flew backwards and landed in a sitting position 10 feet from the door. I got very dizzy and just sat there as my mom flew towards me and bent down asking me over and over again if I was okay. I blinked back at her blankly as my sisters and daddy started to laugh so hard they cried. They thought it was hilarious that the door to the entrance was so clean that I hadn't realized it was closed and had run full speed right into it. Mortified, I walked with them into the hotel as half the staff fussed over the huge knot that had already started to materialize on my forehead and the other half made sure there were no cracks in the door. My entire family called me "Lumpy" that week.
Our days in Myrtle Beach were split between the beach and the outdoor pool; our nights playing cards together as a family. One day at the pool, my sisters and I were playing one of the games we had made up. Daddy would throw a penny somewhere into the deep end of the pool and the three of us would dive down and look for it with our goggles (we couldn't open our eyes underwater.) First one to come up to the surface with the penny got a point. We would play this game for hours until Daddy said he was tired of throwing and we had to come up with another thing to play that didn't involve parental interaction.
All of us hated to get out of the pool to go to the bathroom. We hated to miss out on the fun that would happen without us in those five minutes and we hated pulling our wet bathing suits down and up again. It was hard to do; it was cold and would get twisted up and feel weird as it made a thomping, sucking noise as it settled back into our bodies.
One afternoon in the middle of the penny game, the urge to go to the bathroom hit me. I had to go bad. But I was winning and they would keep playing no matter who had to take a time out to go to the bathroom. Those were the rules. The chance of losing was unacceptable to me. Worse, I had to go Number Two. I continued to play as the "feeling" got worse and worse. Finally, I made the executive decision to not get out of the pool. I looked around me from the spot I was treading water in the deep end. No adults were sitting out on this end, and my sisters were in the shallow end with my parents laying in chairs right by them. I pulled my bathing suit over to the side with one hand and kept myself afloat with the other as I relieved myself of my Number Two right there in the deep end of the pool. No one was the wiser.
I quickly swam back to the shallow end with my sisters and had it all set in my head what I would say when the Number Two was discovered...it was only a matter of time. Less time than I was prepared for, really, as Daddy threw the penny in what I inwardly measured as right around where the Number Two lay at the bottom of the pool. My sisters launched off at top speeds toward the deep end after the penny with me only slightly behind them. I didn't want to go over there at all, but if I didn't it would look suspicious. They treaded water over the penny, took deep breaths in and dove under after it. I followed suit. Sure enough, I could see with my goggles the Number Two laying menacingly on the bottom of the pool, slightly to the left of the penny. I came up for air and waited for it to enfold.
Sure enough, my sisters came up screaming and sputtering that there was a "Stinky" (that's what we called Number Two back then,) at the bottom. The three of us swam furiously for the shallow end to get away from it, screaming the whole way back. We jumped out of the pool and Daddy went to investigate. Sure enough, there was a Stinky down there. The lifeguard made all the kids get out of the pool as they fished around for it with a net. Most of them left with their parents before it was brought up, disgusted and not planning to swim anymore. We stayed to watch.
As the Stinky came up in the net, my sisters and I murmured "gross" and "who would do that" and "do you still want to swim." We decided we did, and somehow my parents let us with warnings to keep our mouths closed in the water. I kept that secret with me for years and we were all adults before I told my sisters it was me. They laughed and laughed before my sister, Erin, gasped for air and said out loud the very reason I had never told them about it - "But J. You don't even have the excuse of being a little kid. You were ten!"
I looked at them sheepishly, still embarrassed after so many years and simply said quietly with a shrug of my shoulders, "Well...I didn't want to lose."
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