Is That A Problem?

As a teen, I loved going to stay at my Aunt and Uncle's house out in the country. They had a small farm with cows, chickens and a horse.  My parents took a camper that was attached to our truck out for the summer and parked it on their property. It was someplace to stay while we spent the weekend fishing.

I decided I was going to take a friend and have my brother drive us out for the week. I'd help my Aunt milk the cows and collect the eggs and then have fun with my friend Judy. We loved singing and dancing , planning to be entertainers when we grew up. She was the better singer; I was the dancer, we did both.

The problem was, we would dance in the camper. We were both big girls, but she was a lot bigger than me. The pounding of us jumping on the floor was not ideal as it  was only  held up with blocks on each corner. It was not the best thing to do. One day during one of  our routines, we hear a loud bang.  I jumped off the camper, while Judy makes her way outside. I turned toward the doorway and noticed the floor is hanging from the bottom.

I told Judy we better call my brother to pick us up because I don't think we should stay inside. There were no phone lines, and we had to walk to a store 5 miles down the highway. First, we had to get to there.  I thought we would have no problem, it seemed like it was close enough when my parents drove there. So, off we went, singing and dancing our way down the dirt road. It was a lot further than I remembered. Four hours later, we manage to get to the store. I called home and was informed my brother will pick us up after work.  It was a 90 minute drive and thought we could get back to the camper with time to spare.

We were lucky, someone took pity on us as we limped away, feet sore with blisters, hauling our weighty bodies back to the road. Someone gave us a ride back to the dirt road heading back to my Aunt and Uncle's place.  We were hot, tired and hurting. We stopped at a house and asked for a glass of water before continuing.

Finally, we got back to the camper and started pulling out our stuff and getting ready for my brother to show up. He shows up with the truck, mad as can be. Judy is strutting around him, posing. He just smiles, when she asks him, "Do I look like I lost weight? We did all this walking today, and I feel like I lost weight."  He looks at me  and whispers, "is she kidding, she's 400 pounds."

He didn't want to insult her so tells her yes, he can see the weight loss, all the while his eyes bugging out at me as though we were nuts.

My brother asked why we had to come home tonight It had come as a surprise to him after being informed upon returning home and just walking through the door.

I just said, well, we were having a little problem with the camper and showed him the 'little problem'.

There it was, the floor is hanging 6 inches off the back of the camper. His eyes became wide, his mouth hung open, just looking at me. All I could think to say was, "That doesn't look good, is that a problem?"  He's furious, swearing, trying to lift the floor.  Finally, he begins to load the camper onto the truck, yelling at us and trying to hammer the floor up enough so it could sit on the truck bed.

After an hour of listening to him curse, we get in the truck and head home. He's still fuming and wanting to know what the hell we were doing to break the floor. "We were just dancing!"  I said to him, " It's easy to fix so what are you so miserable about?"  Needless to say, the remainder of the ride home, Judy and I never said a word.