This is not happening...

My plan was to post some of my favorite Drake memories on Facebook today so I came over here to my blog and shared a few.  Unfortunately my FAVORITE Drake story was only eluded to in the "Amateur" post.  The original must have been in my old blog.  So... I thought I would take a moment to retell the story for those that are unfamiliar with it.

It was back when Drake was only 3 or 4.  My girlfriend and her daughter went with us to St. Edwards park to let the kids run and play for the morning.  The boys and I had never been to that park so it was quite fun.  After a few hours of play we decided it was time to get cleaned up for lunch and head home.  As we are walking to the van we past the restrooms.  I asked Robby to take Drake into the bathroom and for both of them to wash their hands.  My girlfriend and I stood outside waiting for them when all of a sudden Robby comes running out of the bathroom yelling, "MOM!!!  Drake has some sort of a balloon in his mouth!"  Pause for effect...Are you thinking the same thing I was thinking at that precise moment?  

I VAULTED into the Mens room, completely uncaring who I may catch off guard, only to discover that he indeed had a balloon in his mouth, a little green water balloon.  I was SO relieved that is wasn't the "balloon" I feared it was, I tossed it in the trash, tried not to think about the fact that he had retrieved it from UNDER a urinal and made a mental not to kiss him until I had brushed his teeth 100 times.

Later that night when I was finally able to laugh about the scenario, I posted a blog about it.  It was all laughs and "OMG's!" until a friend of mine (who works for the police department) asked if I was sure it wasn't a "mule balloon".  OMG!!!  These are my choices?!  A "love balloon" or a cocaine balloon that had been lodged in someones carcASS?!  

Thankfully, after my brain shut down while I was huddled in the corner, rocking and muttering, "This is not happening.  This is not happening..."  I did what every self respecting mother would do.  I repressed that thought and those images and didn't smooch him for a week.

You can't buy memories like these.  You really can't.