hey. remember when...

                                                                                            This picture was taken on our 7 year anniversary. :)

I think I may have written about this before.

About five years ago we were in San Francisco with our friends John and Shannon. We were walking around downtown after we had supper and I felt something hit my head. I brushed the spot where it hit and sparks and ashes flew from my hair.

A cigarette butt had been tossed from the balcony above. The guy was flustered and sincerely apologetic. He was just one story up and kept saying how sorry he was.

This moment now comes up with John and Shannon every so often when I feel there is a good lull in the conversation. I'll casually mention, "Hey. You guys remember when a cigarette butt landed on my head?"

And we laugh.

Well. I have a new one.

Friday night we loaded the kids up for a thrilling night of Menards, Arby's drive thru and a car wash. And in all honestly, I was excited about our Friday night plans. Menards felt like a good adventure and I do love an automatic car wash. And curly fries.

As we were driving down our road I told Rory my back was really itchy. And as we got our Arby's it was increasingly so. We ate our Arby's on a yard bench on display at Menards and were laughing at our sorry selves. Ivar was filthy from a day of play and had ketchup all over his face. Rory was trying to feed himself, hold the bag of food and feed Ivar while I kept walking around saying how I must have gotten bit up by something because my back was so irritated. I made Rory look and he commented that it was red, but probably from all of my scratching.

We left Menards after picking out a window and door and went to get the car washed. At this point my back was starting to feel warm. Sort of a burning feeling. The carwash was exciting. Ivar was terrified and squeezed his eyes shut most of the time, Elsie was crying and I kept rubbing my lower back.

It was only on the drive back to our house that Rory remembered something. Something that might have been helpful to remember much earlier in the night. And his recollection came out slowly and with horror. "Oh Becca. Ohhhh. Becca. I know why your back is burning. Oh Becca. You are sitting in battery acid. Oh my word. You are. I returned that big battery the other day and it left the seat wet. I forgot all about it. We have to get you in the shower. Immediately."

And then we were both silent and Rory drove a bit faster. My mouth hung open and I was strangely amused. Less at the fact that I was sitting in battery acid, and more at the fact that it took Rory two hours of errands to finally remember that he had placed a battery on that seat the day before, the cause for my complaining that had been a part of our whole evening together.

When I got out he saw that the metal stitching on the seat had been eaten away. And later when he poured a solution of water and baking soda on the seat to neutralize the acid, he had a volcano of bubbles that would trump any forth grade science fair project.

I have a little rash now with some bright red dots and bumps, but its actually pretty minor.

So when Rory came to bed that night I let him get comfortable and then leaned in, "Hey. Remember that time I sat in battery acid?"