Three random stories that might explain a lot about me

My grandparents used to take me on vacation every summer. We usually went to either Florida or Texas - something that was a two day drive from New Orleans. I've been to Disney World, Busch Gardens, Astro World, Six Flags, a whole bunch of caves in Georgia and one year, in a burst of creativity, we went to Tennessee.

Anyway, on one of the years we went to Florida, a fan belt broke in my grandparents' Cadillac and we ended up stuck on the side of the road. I can't picture my Poppa hiking for help, but this was about 25 years ago, so I guess he did. Regardless, a Florida state trooper ended up coming to our rescue by crossing over the median and picking us up.

Now, see I don't question authority unless authority gives me a reason to do so. So I said "Um, sir? How come you get to cross the grass and we don't??"

He looked down from under the brim of his Smokey the Bear hat at the cute (I was kind of cute) obnoxious little blonde girl in front of him and, to his credit, said:

"Well, that's because it's real swampy here in Florida and we know all the safe places to cross and y'all might not. We don't want y'all to get stuck."

Given a perfectly reasonable explanation for an injustice, I'll go about my merry way.

Of course, years later, I realized that the real answer was "because we're the police and you're not."

It's up to you to decide whether "years later" means when I was in high school or, like, last week.

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My dad had this friend named Tommy. Tommy was an incredible artist. He had a red face and a stutter and was one of the funniest guys I've ever met. He died of stomach cancer when kiddo was a toddler.

Tommy is why I will never, ever, ever have Botox.

See, here's the thing. Anytime my dad and Tommy would be hanging out, drinking beer and bullshitting (something that they wouldn't shoo me away from, thank you Dad) the worst thing Tommy could come up with, the vilest poison, the most evil thing ever??? Was botulism.

"That can's dented! Botulism!!"

"Wait, how old are those chips?? No don't eat those! You could get botulism!!"

"Red sky at night, Sailor's delight, Red sky at morning, BOTULISM!!!"

So yeah, no botulism in the forehead for me, thanks though.

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My grandparents had this ranch style house that had that most useless of features - the formal living room. It, and the formal dining room to which it was attached, pretty much only got used for Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, for storing random things and for when my best friend Carrie and I were playing.

During one of the holidays, my grandmother made the mistake of bending over at the waist to fix the cushions on the couch. My dad snapped a picture of her butt.

"Whit-NEY!!!"
"What??"
"Did you just take a picture of my butt??"
"Why the hell would I take a picture of THAT??"

Come Christmas, there was a small box under the tree marked:

To: Ma
From: Whit

It rattled

My grandma opened it up. It was full of puzzle pieces.

"Whitney, what the hell is this??"
"Well, put it together, I'm not gonna tell you."

She put it together, and it was a picture of her, caught in the act of bending over fixing the cushions on the couch. Not a picture of her face, in other words.