We had our 8th grade trip at some water park with long windy water slides that require you to sit on mats when you slide down them. I picked an older mat and Bailey picked a newer one. I went down first and waited at the end for Bailey to come down. As Bailey came to the end of the slide, the mat suddenly skidded to a halt. I guess that newer mat hadn't been quite broken in yet. The next few moments contained Bailey's frantic attempts to remove herself from the slide before our friend Kyla could slide down and shoot poor Bailey off the end. I'll never forget the look on Bailey's face.
I was opening a bottle of BBQ sauce once at our kitchen counter, standing across from my sister Shelley. The bottle was difficult to open as a lot of the sauce had congealed around the lid. With the help of a butter knife I was able to pry the lid loose but my efforts had also projected some of the sauce into the air. I looked up and saw that Shelley's face had been splattered with BBQ sauce.
Back when we were still in Young Women, we had a sleepover party at Sister Webster's house for all the Laurels in CV1. We were all crammed into the living room and just as were all about to fall asleep, Bailey shouts that memorable line from Mulan, "You men owe me a new pair of slippers!"
We were sitting at the lunch table in the Northgate High School cafeteria. My friend Liz was talking animatedly about her weekend. She held a grape between her thumb and her index finger. At a particularly dramatic part of her story, she accidentally squeezed the grape and the juice squirted right into my left eye. What are the odds?
We were performing a service activity around Christmas time for Young Men/Young Women. The goal was to drop off the little bag of goodies at the house, ring the doorbell, make it back to the car, and drive away before the door had even been opened. Well, Bailey and I went up to the door, left the goodies, rang the doorbell, and then ran. But running as fast as you can in the dark has its perils. As I ran, I hit a dip in the road, flew through the air, and landed in a pile of rocks. Well, needless to say, we didn't achieve our goal of driving away before the homeowners answered the door, but it did result in a car full of laughing girls and even in the composition of a song about my misfortunes. (Ask Hannah and Bailey for further details.)
My roommate Melissa and I walked out of the Tanner Building after we got out of our English 150 class. As we stood there waiting for the light to change so we could cross the street, we heard a poor, kind of desperate-sounding fellow say to his friend, "There are like 15,000 girls on this campus and all I want is one. Is that too much to ask?"
We decided one night to go roll down that grassy hill area next to the Harold B. Lee Library windows facing into the Periodicals Section. I'm pretty sure that hill has a sign next to it that specifically says, "Don't roll down this hill." My roommates, a few of our guy friends, and I rolled down this hill anyway and, for some reason, I stopped mid-roll. My roommate Melissa's boyfriend Paul was right behind me and rolled right over my poor helpless body. Well, I guess that's what you get for disobeying the rules.
My roommate Melissa, domestic goddess that she is, was making cookies one day. Shauntelle looked over the recipe and said (something to the effect), "It says here that you are supposed to refrigerate the dough for a few hours but I never do." Sandee blurts out, "That's why you're cookies taste like garbage." Jokingly, of course.
Hannah and I were sitting in a Biology 100 class in which the teacher was going off about how our planet is being destroyed, how the icebergs are melting, and how the forests are being razed to the ground. Hannah turned to me and, lovingly caressing her notepad, said, "I appreciate a nice forest but I love a fresh notebook."
The doorbell rang. My roommate Jennifer Jones went to answer it and found Scott Swindler, my roommate Alyssa's boyfriend, standing in our doorway. After a quick emotionless "Hi Scott," she slammed the door in his face. After a good amount of laughter had erupted from those of us sitting around the kitchen table, Jennifer opened the door again and let poor Scott in.
