Memories Rewind: Dust gets rid of Girlfriend’s Daughters

My dad's old girlfriend was visiting one day with the kids. It was kind of like a get to know you day. We had just finished lunch, so my brother and I headed outside to play. B's oldest daughter wanted to help me fix my hair. Girls try to look their best you know.

My brother and I got on the golf cart while L took the four wheeler. We had two driveways, so it made the perfect circle for a race track. Lap one L was in the lead. Not to be outdone, my brother and I inched our way up to the front. I saw a chance to pass so I did. My brother looked back and saw L coming too close for comfort. "Make the dust get in her eyes!" my brother yelled. "Yes!" I thought. Our plan worked. L couldn't see where she was going. I floored the gas...a little too soon.

Our victory of success was short lived because I had forgotten that the other driveway curved around the rosebush. I saw it when it was too late: I was headed straight for the side of the house! Oh no. What am I going to do? I practically shouted in my head. Yelling to myself about my stupid mistake was futile. I wasn't going to be taken out by a fender bender or a little spin out. I had a date with the house in about 2 seconds. The steering wheel rattled underneath my hand. I was gripping and turning it with all of the strength of a 9 year old. Nothing happened. The golf cart didn't appreciate the primping I did before the race huh?

"BAM!" As the golf cart came to an abrupt halt, my stomach hit the steering wheel. I slowly peeled myself from the steering wheel to assess my physical injuries. Aside from soreness and a little redness, I was no worse for the wear. Trying to be a supportive girlfriend, B came over to make sure I was OK. "Yeah" was my feeble reply.

I got off the golf cart, vowing to never ride it again. If it didn't recognize a cute little girl then I had no use for it. Humph. That'll teach it to mess with a girl.

Anxious to know who won the race, I hobbled over. No one said a word. To my amazement, L was still wiping dust underneath her glasses. From that day on, L never uttered a word about racing us again. I guess she didn't want to face the dust busters again because one helping of that was enough.

Reminder: Don't forget to vote in the poll on my left sidebar! I want your opinions (yes, lurkers too).