In the beginning.....Jeff's first trip on the Karma bus!

Now this story has been told in my family for as long as I can remember.  It happened when I was just a baby beginning to walk, back in the days before disposable diapers were readily available.  I did not write this.  My brother, Jeff Hanks wrote it, and he did such an amazing job, I thought I'd use it as my first blog post.  It has NOTHING to do with Snails N Tails, or what I'm doing now,  but I can guarantee it'll make you laugh harder than you thought possible!  Are you ready??.....

Karma! What goes around comes around! This concept that every once in a while, circumstances converge to give somebody what they have coming, good or bad. Its been around as long as humans I'm sure. This is a short story about my being hit by the karma bus for the first of MANY collisions. 

Now, as many four year olds are apt to be, I was a pretty finicky eater. Try as they might to expand my culinary horizons, my folks found my personal food choices were a pretty short list. However, Dad was able to tap into something in my personality even stronger than my dislike of things green or remotely bean like! Yep, that one quality possessed by all young male humans, MISCHIEF! 
You see my dad invented a game called "you better not eat my food while I'm gone"! This game was greatly encouraged by my mom, with a sly smile and a wink, at supper time. Mom would put food on the table and fix me a small plate with what she thought I might eat, and Dad would fix himself a plate of small portions of whatever we were having, EVEN PEAS, and place it there at his seat. He would make up some lame excuse to go outside, clever enough to fool a four year old, and tell me "you better not eat my food while I'm gone"! I would scarf his plate down, between giggles, then laugh out load when he came back and acted like he was gonna starve. Well, the thrill of the mischief became more powerful than the taste of green beans! A fact that years later on, I'm sure, would make them question there unbridled use of child psychology. Perhaps even, if it would have been easier to just let me starve to death at 4 years old and start over.
My little sister Kellie came along to our family when I was 7 years old. I would have been happy with a puppy, but here she was in all her smiling, gurgling, burping, pooping glory. Besides, mom said there is NO WAY she was putting her back in there. Puppies are easier to house train but I was eventually able to teach her to fetch. 
By this time my finicky appetite was long gone. However, these youngsters raising me had created a mischief monster. The die was cast as they say. The quickest way to get me motivated was to tell me "don't do it"! One of my favorite things to do was sneak a taste of whatever mom was cooking while she was out of the kitchen. Now this was a fussin infraction, not a beatin infraction. Her other fussin infraction, albeit much louder was eating ANYTHING that I had dropped on the floor. Five second rule, five minutes, didn't matter to me, or her, she was just as pissed either way. She had only done this a million times by this point. What I really needed was a teaching moment. That magic moment all parents wish for. It's when Jr comes to understand EXACTLY what his parents were talking about, without loss of limbs or the need for further parental intervention. 
On one fateful summer afternoon my teaching moment arrived for the first time by the Karma bus. The first arrival, but certainly not the last. Mom was cooking ground beef for tacos. It had onions and spices, the whole house smelled wonderful. I just couldn't wait to sneak a bite of this. This being the early 1970's, little sister is running around the kitchen in just an old fashion cloth diaper, enjoying her new ability to do so, and i am waiting patiently. Now, mom picks my little sister up and goes into the other room to change a diaper before supper, my chance at last. I scooped up a taste in her large, metal kitchen spoon, awesome stuff, but in my haste I dropped some evidence on the floor. I had only a moment to hide it or I'd be busted for sure! So I did the obvious thing, I picked it up and ate it. Mmm, one chunk of ground beef! Mmm, two chunks of ground beef. The third chunk however, was SO NOT ground beef! It may have been about twelve hours earlier, but not now! NOW it was a DIAPER NUGGET! POOP! CRAP! OMG!!!!!! My mind recoiled in absolute horror. This MAY be a little like getting that delicious, ice cold Coke at the drive thru, taking a big drink, then realizing it's really unsweetened tea! I said A LITTLE LIKE!! That's saying the sand pile in your back yard is A LITTLE LIKE Mt. Everest! 
At this point my senses of taste and smell were screaming at the rest of my brain to abandon this defiled, damaged beyond repair, sinking ship! My brain tried to escape! It tried to push my eyeballs out, then my ears, no such luck. Any attempted exit through the nose or mouth was out of the question! Seeing no escape I did the only thing I could, dropped the metal spoon on the floor and ran down the hall to the bathroom, spitting and screaming all the way! 
Now by this time my mom was about done with the diaper duty, some pun intended, and rushed to see what the commotion was about. She assumed, incorrectly, that I must have burned myself doing what I shouldn't have been doing. When she got to the bathroom door she found me at the sink, gagging, teary eyed, unable to speak, and brushing my teeth and tongue furiously like i was trying to kill that creature from "Alien" that was gonna bust out of my chest any second.
Now ya gotta understand that in my little 8 1/2 year old mind, this was absolutely the most horrible experience of my life! What I really needed at this moment was my mom to understand how horrible this was. She shouted "What Happened"?, but I was not about to stop brushing yet. She repeated this question again, only louder. So I stopped brushing long enough to take the brush out and shout through my foam filled mouth "I ATE SOME MEAT OFF THE FLOOR BUT IT WAS POOP"!! She screamed "AAHHHHH"!!, and for a moment I felt that she understood my horror, but only for a moment.
You see, she fell back out of the doorway against the hall wall and lost her breath. At this age I had never seen anyone have a siezure or a heart attack, and wouldn't have known either way. I was sure there for a minute that the sheer scope of this catastrophic event may have actually killed her. That was it, I was doing something I shouldn't have been doing, I ruined the inside of my mouth for life, AND the shock was too much for my mom's old, feeble, 27 year old heart! I was goin to Hell for sure now! 
When she inhaled again she began to HOWL ! Loud ! Fitful ! Uncontrollable ! Laughter ! I could only stand there, toothbrush in hand, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal, starring at my mom on the floor having a complete fit of laughter. Not exactly the sympathy I was looking for! After what seemed like forever, she regained her breath long enough to speak between cackles to shout " Didn't I tell you not to eat off the floor"! The bus had arrived, on schedule!
To this very day NOTHING passes my lips without the smell test. A fact my mom and sister still laugh at when they catch me, unconsciously, smelling something before I eat or drink it. NO EXCEPTIONS! 
I have been hit by the Karma bus now more times than I can count, some good, some bad. This reflection helps me to understand why the handle bars on my little emotional bicycle are twisted to one side, the front tire wobbles when I go too fast, and the chain might completely derail if I stop too quick. All in all, I figure it's just broke in good, and I wouldn't want to ride it any other way!

I have come to the conclusion that this instance is the sole reason my brother gave me so much CRAP growing up.  It was not, in fact, regular sibling rivalry, or the fact that we are 7 years apart.  No!  It was payback!

And the moral of this story: If your big brother eats your poop when you're a baby, he will make sure you eat his for the rest of your life....hehe.  Love ya big brother!