We just completed a wonderful trip to the Colorado Rockies. As we drove home, our 24 year old son smiled and said, “Remember mom, we cannot stop in Ogallala.” And I said, “Huh?” He continued, “Ogallala, where you made a public spectacle of yourself a week ago.” And then I remembered.
It had been the first day of our trip west. We had driven 11 hours when we decided to stop, get out of the car and sit down for dinner at a restaurant. The lucky town to receive our business was Ogallala, Nebraska.
We were seated at a table by the waitress/receptionist. We ordered, then I went to the bathroom. Being tired from all those hours of sitting, I didn’t return to my seat but walked around the restaurant looking at every picture in the dining area. I noticed people staring but thought nothing of it because not many people wander around a restaurant. But when the kitchen staff, one by one, came out of the kitchen to lean against the wall and watch I thought, “Must be a slow day in Ogallala.”
We had a wonderful meal, returned to the car and continued down the highway. About 10 miles down the road I understood why everyone had been staring. As I shifted positions in my seat, I saw something white. What is this? Pulling on it, I uncovered a long trail of toilet paper hanging from the back of my capris. I was speechless for a moment, then did what I do best, laughed until tears streamed down my face. My family was greatly amused.