Pigs Can Fly 🐷

A road-trip with my big sister comes to a hilarious, um, outcome.

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My two big sisters were Irish twins — born ten months apart.  They had the most awesome bedrooms down the basement of our little red-brick bungalow in Walden.  Their paneled-wall and wall-to-wall carpeted bedrooms were not only super cool and trendy, but they were adjoined so that if you wanted to go into Eva’s room, you had to first walk through Amy’s.  Eva had a single bed in her room with an afghan on it that she crocheted herself.  She was (and still is) very creative and multi-talented – always making something, or writing a poem, baking, painting a paint-by-number or organizing a get-together.  Eva’s zest for life is contagious.  People flock to Eva, wanting to be apart of her exciting life.

Eva also had throw cushions on the bed with hand-stitched colourful cartoon figures of hippos and other large animals.  Her room was so interesting that I would love to just sit and look at everything and wonder at how she must have made it.  Eva was about twelve years older than I was and I adored her.  She was also my God-Mother.  I was so lucky.

Amy’s room sported a double bed and a walk-in closet that had its very own light and light switch.  As a little girl I would imagine it to be my play house and I would wish I was big enough to wear some of Amy’s great clothes.  Amy was (and still is) a very gentle soul. She has many friends.  She listens well and can empathize with just about everyone she meets.  She listens to her clients all day while she expertly works on their hair and makes them feel good about themselves.  People love Amy from the moment they meet her and look into her beautiful blue, kind eyes.  She is one of those soft-spoken, nice people that everyone wants to associate with. Amy was about 11 years older than I was and I also adored her, she was the most beautiful woman, on the inside and out, that I knew and I was very proud to be her little sister.  Amy and Eva pretty much raised me from the time I was a tiny.

One night when I was seven years old, I was curled up beside Amy who was reading her homework assignment to me aloud. She was attending the Walden School of Hairdressing at the time.  I used to share Amy’s double bed with her. Eva walked in, all excited, and announced that she was going to Windsor to attend Mike Carruthers’s graduation from Law School.  Mike was a school friend of hers who lived down the hill from us and who just loved Evie.  He wanted her as a girlfriend but, unfortunately, Eva really never could muster up those kinds of feelings for him.  Eva however, still really liked Mike and was looking forward to the adventure of going down to Windsor to see his grad.  We would, of course, stay with our relatives (on Mom’s side) and not at his apartment (which he shared with some other guy).  I guess I was a type of chaperone for this mission and would keep Evie, my big sister that I was in awe of, company while she drove.

We started out early in the day in Eva’s new, green, 1973 Maverick –“The Mav”.  The plan was that we would pull off the highway about once every hour so that Eva wouldn’t be too tired by the time we got there.  It’s about a 6-hour road trip from Walden to Windsor and sure enough we pulled off for a break each hour.  Eva would buy us a treat and we would sometimes gas up the Mav and then we would be on the road again.  The trip took us on multi-lane, fast 400-series highways all the way to Windsor which is situated on the border with The States.  We sung all kinds of great tunes.  Eva is a talented singer and loves to entertain.  We sang Band On the Run, Country Roads, Out on a Date, Maggie May and more.  My big sister Evie was so much fun!  I could hardly believe the adventure I was having and how lucky I was (compared to my brothers Luke, Job, Mark and Matt who had to stay at home).

We arrived in good time and I was amazed at the absolutely largest bridge I had ever laid eyes on.  Eva said that was the bridge to The States and that it was a mile long.  Holy Cow! I thought.

We found Mike’s apartment and Mike and his roomie welcomed us in with open arms.  There was lots of smiling and some cute flirting going on.  Eva was an expert joker and loved to wittingly poke fun at Mike.  Mike would get all shy, wave his hand and say, Oh Eva!  Mike opened the fridge to offer us a refreshment.  Eva politely declined but, I couldn’t help but notice that all of their food, even the peanut butter was in there.  Yuck! Cold peanut butter, I thought.  We were big peanut butter eaters in the Player household.  Mom used to buy peanut butter by the gallon bucket and it would be gone in a week.  We would usually find a butter knife in the emptying bucket.  One of us had just left it in there.  We NEVER put peanut butter in the fridge!  I had to ask.  I was so curious.  Why do you have all that food in the fridge?  It turned out that their apartment, which was actually in a really old huge brick house, probably out of the Victorian era, had bugs – cock roaches.  Keeping food in the fridge deterred these pests.  Next I had to use the toilet.

Eva said she would come in with me to freshen up while I used the toilet.  As we walked in to the bathroom I noticed that the bathtub was different from our late 70s model in our brick bungalow in Walden.  This tub had feet.  Everything looked different and old, but really neat at the same time.  Eva explained antiques to me as she applied some blush, mascara, then some blue eye-shadow and a bit of pinkish lipstick.  I can remember feeling like I was learning a lot on this trip.

I did a poop, wiped, and hopped off the toilet, yanking up my jeans and turning to look at my deposit.  There, in the bowl, was the biggest, fattest bowl movement I had ever produced, or seen produced, in my young life.  It was huge and it curled all the way around the toilet bowl!  I was pointing at it and saying: Wow, Eva, take a look at this!  When I noticed the look of utter horror on my big sister’s face. Flush it, Morgan! she ordered, before it stinks up this place really bad!

I reached over and pulled on the ancient flushing lever.  I couldn’t figure out why my oldest sister wasn’t as amazed by what I had produced as I was.  The massive, man-sized poop was going to be gone in an instant so I watched it closely as it was going to disappear down the hole.  Around and around and around it went but…it…did…not…go…down.  Instead it proceeded to float up higher to the rim of the bowl.  Again I was amazed at its size and bulk.  Eva hadn’t been watching.  She had been brushing her long, dazzling hair.

Look Eva, it’s not going down.  I said.  I wasn’t the least bit disturbed by this.

Oh no Morgan, she said in dismay as she pushed her shiny, straight brown hair behind her ears, They’re gonna think I did that! indicating with her head nod my big prize poop.

 So?

Oh never mind, you’re too young to understand.  We’ve got to do something before they wonder what the heck is going on in here!

Eva looked frantically around the bathroom until her eyes fell on a scoop beside the toilet that had been fashioned out of an old bleach bottle.  The rest of it happened pretty quickly.  She opened the window, grabbed the scoop, fished out the huge coil and tossed it straight out the window.  When I looked out to see if I could see where it landed, there it was: a large brown lump of poop, a little lower than the window, on a small roof, about ten feet away from my small wondering face.  Eva simply closed the window and the curtain, took one last glance in the mirror, plastered a somewhat nervous looking smile on her face, took my hand and opened the bathroom door.

Years later, after recounting this story to my best girl friend Flo, she was doubled over laughing then stood straight up and while smiling widely said,

Who says pigs can’t fly?   We both laughed some more.

4 thoughts on “Pigs Can Fly 🐷

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