Don't believe me? Take a gander at this pic (taken with Grandy's cell phone; pre-beautiful-camera days)...
Blackened Batcave BATMAN!!! Grandy just realized this pic was taken July 2007. About 18 months and 80 pounds ago...That WAS Grandy's ass on that Quad.
More importantly (no really, get your eyes of the "artist formerly known as" Grandy-Ass) please note my Trailer behind me.
The Grandys LOVED that trailer. It was our main mode of vacationing. Then...Grandy got whiny and started saying stupid stuff like, "It would be nice if we could take a where I wasn't surrounded by nothing but dirt."
Well, Grandy got her wish! (stupid Grandy) Last Thanksgiving we noticed a soft spot on the floor of the trailer. Uh-Oh! Better take it in!! We have really good trailer insurance (of course we do, Grandy works in Insurance) and they'll take care of it.
Well...we take the trailer in. Months go by...surgeries happen...more stuff happens...no trailer yet...Guess what folks! Grandy's trailer ends up being a TOTAL LOSS!!
"WHAT?!?" I know you're asking yourself.
It's true though. That soft spot on the floor was just the start. Apparently water had gotten in and completely rotted out most of the floor under the bed and in spots where we had not known it. We were fortunate because the trailer was covered, and in retrospect, I suppose it was better to find out this way rather than losing our bed on the interstate.
The Grandys had to cancel their Easter 2008 trip to Nevada, their July 2008 trip to Oregon, couldn't take our few trips to Dillon's Beach to go crabbing, etc. By the time Thanksgiving was upon us, we decided we weren't going to let the fact that we didn't have a trailer keep us completely off the dirt. Poor Ty had missed out on some good riding time.
So...Grandy rented a room at a hotel in Reno (which is about 20 miles away from where all our peeps were camping) and checked in about 11:00pm on Thanksgiving. Grandy couldn't sleep that night, the whole holiday just wasn't the same.
The next morning Grandy gets up, feeds her addiction, and slowly makes her way out to the vehicle (pouting), where we have all the bikes tied up on a flat trailer.
As they approach the vehicle, Grandy notices a yellow slip on the windshield. Too big for a ticket? Too small for a flyer? There was one on a truck parked next to us that had a U-Haul trailer attached to it. It was the security guard slip reiterating the parking policy. They tried to say we were blocking another space, and the aisle way, and we couldn't park there. We absolutely were not, we parked WAY OUT to make sure we didn't block anyone (the Grandys are good that way) and were not blocking any aisles.
"What a BOOB!" Grandy says to Hubby while reading the notice.
Then...it appears! The most hysterical coincidence EVER!! It truly made the rest of my day and snapped me out of my stupid pout.
Grandy notices the name of the officer:
a·re·o·la - (ə-rē'ə-lə) - Anatomy; small circular area such as that around the human nipple or an inflamed area around a pimple or insect bite.
Not getting to do your traditional Thanksgiving in your trailer? = SUCKY
Getting a parking notice from a putz security guard with too much time on his hands? = SUCKY
Same putz having a name that is an anatomical part of the boobie? = PRICELESS