Front Porch Stories: Meat tenderizer, jellyfish and the beach
By KATHY BOHANNON, Special to The Weekly
Pensacola, Florida, was our favorite place when our kids were growing up. One trip in particular started out just like all the others; we arrived, unpacked our bags and put on our swimsuits. Destination: beach.
I commented as we drove toward the beach that we should stop for some meat tenderizer. It was a staple in my beach bag, as it would aid in removing the searing burn from a jellyfish sting, but I’d forgotten to pack it. I had a coupon and placed it on the console of the minivan. But something distracted us and we didn’t stop for the ever-necessary spice.
We set up on a little spot of beach right near the water. It was idyllic as always, and just the thing these two working parents and two antsy kids needed.
I left the husband and kids in the water so I could dry off a bit. It was hot and I was too wet to put on my bathing suit cover. In a matter of moments, my son started screaming. That ocean is a monster soup. I had no idea what had happened, but my husband and the kids were rushing toward dry land.
The Boy had a terrible jellyfish sting. I grabbed the keys to the minivan and shouted over my shoulder that I’d be back in a few minutes with the meat tenderizer.
The only things I grabbed besides the keys were my flip flops. Soaking wet, I raced to the van and rushed to the nearest grocery store.
As I put the vehicle in park, I glanced down and saw the coupon. I grabbed it, dug under the seat for my wallet and ran into the grocery store.
I wasn’t familiar with the layout, so I asked the first cashier I saw if she could tell me where the meat tenderizer was. It was then and only then that I realized, as the cashier and everyone in her line turned in my direction, that I was the only person in the store wearing a soaking wet bathing suit, flip flops, and nothing else.
She pointed in the direction of the spice aisle and I hurried to find that little bottle of miracle cure. A woman more familiar with the store rushed ahead of me and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. I thanked her and ran to the register.
By now, most heads were turned my way. It isn’t because I was so cute in that bathing suit because I was still wearing whatever I ate in the 1980’s. It was the compassion of those in the long line who wanted to be sure to let me check out ahead of them, because clearly, I had a jellyfish emergency.
Everyone ushered me ahead and the cashier rang up my single item.
“Wait!” I said, opening my hand and thrusting my coupon at her. “I have a coupon!”
Remember those E.F. Hutton commercials, the ones where they say when E.F. Hutton speaks, everyone listens? Yeah. It was just like that. You could have heard a pin drop. I looked at the cashier’s face, the line behind me, the looks of disbelief and wrath. I could just hear them wondering why would I have a coupon if it was a real emergency. I’m sure they thought I wore that swimsuit just to hurry and get back to some barbecue nearby.
The Boy was fine and I also saved thirty-five cents. It was a memorable beach day.
Kathy Bohannon is a Christian humorist, inspirational speaker and writer. She can be reached at [email protected].
Oh my goodness, I can TOTALLY see you doing this. As I sit here reading your story out loud to Hadley (the granddaughter) I am chuckling the entire time…. Not because a jellyfish emergency it was the EF Hutton commercial that scampered through my mind, oh and let’s not forget the…. “Wait!! I have a coupon!!” Thank you for the chuckle, as always you make my day!!