As I’m prone to do, I was remembering an event that sent me into laughter.  The memory just made me so “Tickled Pink” with giggles, I could hardly contain myself. I thought I would share it with you and give you the opportunity to be come “Tickled Pink” as well! I mean, really, why should I keep it to myself. And the funny part – I’m not tattling on my hubby this time! This one is a hilarious (but embarrassing) moment of my own!

Back in 1989, I was a Longaberger Basket Consultant. Our group had headed off to Columbus, Ohio for our annual, national convention. Since we all made our own reservations, we were split into two of the hotels. My good friend and I were across the street from the convention center. My friend’s mom came along for all the basket shopping and fun. Now, you have to know a little back story on this friend’s mom. She was in her late 60’s, a little portly and probably only 5’1″.  (we were in our late 20’s, early 30’s). She was our young married’s Sunday School teacher and was like everybody’s mom. Everyone loved and respected Betty. You didn’t miss church without getting a what-for the next Sunday! But we all adored her. 

On one of our days there, we had gathered with our group of fifteen for lunch at one of the Hyatt’s restaurants. I chose a salad with a lot of ingredients I had never had because I love me a great salad, especially something different. I did notice that it had a lot of dressing and something was also in my salad I had never had yet–pine nuts. 

We had finished eating and were chatting about what we had bought in the vendor mall. And it hit me. Bad. I knew I had to get to a restroom and fast. Some of the girls in our group had already gone out to freshen up and get ready for the afternoon sessions. I stood up and said, I gotta go, I’ll meet you in the usual place and gathered up my stuff. Betty said she had to go really bad to and would come with me. 

Not to be mean – but I HAD to go. My legs were longer and I was trying to be kind and walk slower, but I needed to get there. As we approached the bathroom, of course there was a line. I mean c’mon, over 1,000 women and just after lunch! What in the world was I thinking. I turned to Betty and said, “Oh. My. Gosh. I cannot wait, I’m gonna be sick.” At that moment, a couple of the girls from our group were exiting the bathroom and saw us. One of them said I looked like I was going to be sick, was I okay. I said, “NO!” After a short conversation and I said I was heading across the street to my room, she handed me her key and said – no way, just go upstairs to our room, you might not make it. I start to go and Betty said she’s coming too. WHAT???

We head up the elevator. I’m doing what we lovingly call The Potty Dance. I’m almost into a mild whine when we hit our floor. Of course, the elevator is loaded with women and we are in the back. But we made it out before it shuts. I look at the key and head to the room. At this point, I don’t care if it’s Ms. Betty – I’m outta here. I got to the door with the number that matches the key. I tried the door. Betty now joined me. 

It doesn’t work. 

WHAT?!? Are you kidding me?

I turn both ways and notice about five doors down is the housekeeper. A sweet, young, NEW housekeeper. I spew out my story (anybody every hear me talk when I’m excited? Yeah–that fast!). She feels compassion though she didn’t understand most of what I was rapidly firing at her and came to let us in our “friends” room. As I ran into the room, she said something about hoping I feel better as I notice that Betty had zipped past me and is now in the bathroom. Huh?

So, I pace the room. I cry a little. I notice that our friends have really done some shopping in the vendor mall for their basket accessories. I’m trying to think of ANYTHING but the issue at hand. I pace. I whine. I pace. I finally ask pitifully–“Uh, Betty, do you think you’ll be done soon? If not, I have to leave or I’ll for sure be going to our room to change.” Flush. YES!

She came out, I ran in. I don’t care what it smells like as she starts apologizing. I’ve been holding it so long now, that it has made me sicker and I grab for the wastebasket thinking it might be a dual problem. 

Then I hear the door open and giggling women come in. But that quickly changes. And I can’t hear everything that is going on. But I can’t join them yet. 

“Who are YOU?” I hear a lady say.

I hear Betty’s voice, but can’t make out all the words. Sick, friends, borrow key…

“Let me see the key. This is our room. We don’t know you. Is there somebody else here in the bathroom?” another asks. 

There is no way I can get up just yet, but I can tell it’s not pretty in the bathroom or out there either!

Now all of the ladies have moved into the room and I can’t really make out much, but I do hear Betty saying we didn’t touch your things. 

I’m finally able to come out and there is two of them standing right outside the door staring at me. Betty looked like a kid that got caught stealing the cookie from the jar. I came up with a profound statement, “Uh, I was really sick.”

They have no compassion. They want to know how we got in. My mind is racing about our little housekeeper friend. I don’t want to get her in trouble, but I can’t figure out how I’m going to avoid it. Betty is tongue tied. I want to make up some cockamamie story, but she’s my Sunday School teacher for crying out loud!

I try to smile and explain that our key didn’t work and one of the housekeepers, maybe from another floor, let us in and I show her the key. See, it says this number. One of the more crabby women has announced she’s going to the front desk and leaves. Uh oh. The other lady grabs the key from me and announces that the keys in the Hyatt don’t match so if you lose a key people can’t get into your room. 

Then Betty did it. 

She announced, “well the housekeeper a couple doors down let us in, so she must not know about that. It’s not our fault.”

I just kept apologizing and reached for Betty’s arm as I made my way to the door. These women were not happy and I wanted out of there! I practically ran to the elevator dragging Betty. Thankfully when the door opened the other lady wasn’t in it. 

We met up with all the other girls in our usual spot and they had saved us a space. Betty’s daughter looked at us and said we looked like we were up to something. We both stood there. Then looked at each other and broke out into hysterical laughter. 

As we told the story, laughing our way through it, one of the other ladies in our group got to laughing so hard she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. When she finally returned, the next session had started so the convention hall was really quiet. 

She was sitting beside me and leaned over and quietly whispered in my ear, “You may have almost poo’d your pants, but I just wet mine and had to through them away. Sure hope I don’t fall and give another show from our group today!”

And we proceeded to snicker one by one until our entire row was pretty much in tears keeping quiet while laughing until we were red in the face. 

I guess you could say our row became…”Tickled Pink”!

…and that’s all I have to say about that!

Tammy