Peever's butt crack

On Sunday, the fam took a trip down to Peever, South Dakota to pick out the newest member of the Amundson family: A miniature goldendoodle.

That means it is a golden retriever/miniture poodle cross. Mom's the retriever, dad's the poodle....

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yah...

I was kinda wondering how that worked exactly too...

More on that in another post...

So - the family roadtrips to Peever - a town... no wait...Not a town. A street? Hummm...
I'll call it a gas station. A gas station about 90 miles south of Fargo on Interstate 29. Gorgeous Sunday afternoon...

We stop at the gas station before we head out to the breeder's farm. And there it is... the biggest butt crack I have ever seen.

Hang on, hang on... I'm not being honest.  It wasn't butt crack.

It was butt.

Full out butt.

Because, you know, butt crack would suggest there was a little more butt to see

Oh no.

Nononononononononon nonono nono no. no.

We park the car and I say to Paul in a hushed voice...

Me: Looky over there hon...

Paul turns...

Paul: Oh my God!!! (and starts laughing. Not a funny kind of laugh like when you hear a good joke - more of a scared, shocked kind of laugh. Like, we aren't in Fargo anymore... kind of laugh.)

He was a trucker and he was evidently having issues with his wheels...

...and his butt...

Me: Paul? Does he not feel the air on his butt? I mean, it's not warm or anything.

Paul: I'm not sure.

Me: Surely he can't be comfortable.

Paul: Well... it might also be equally uncomfortable to have his pants up.

hmmm... I hadn't considered that.

I turned around in the van towards the kids:

Me: Anyone need a pit stop?

No takers... so Paul and I went into the gas station. There was a nice lady working the cash register and her daughter - I'd say she was about 7 or 8 years old - was helping her behind the counter. I smiled and said "hi" as I walked to the bathroom.

When I emerged... the lady was standing at the door looking out. Her daughter was standing back near the ladies room saying...

Little girl: What? What it is mom?

Mom: Nothing... (she is chuckling...) nothing...

Little girl: Why are you laughing?

Mom: (Turns around slowly) Ohhhhh.. I don't think you need to know....

Our eyes meet and I purse my lips. We both have now been exposed to "The Butt."

When I get to the car, Zach's mouth is hanging open.

Zach: Holy cow! Did you see that guy?

Me: Yes.

Me: Did your brothers see him?

Zach: Yeah. I think Ethan is traumatized.

I look at the trucker again...

Me: What's that dark thing on his butt?

Zach: I know! He was lying on the ground to fix his tire and he got up -- IT'S MUD! He didn't wipe if off or anything.

Me: Are you sure that's mud? Maybe it's a birthmark or something...

Paul gets in the car...

Me: Paul, is that mud on his butt or a birthmark?

Paul: Well, why don't we find out?

Me: Whaaaaaa?

Paul then proceeds to drive toward the semi... he loops around the gas station to pull up right next to it.

RIGHT NEXT TO IT!

Paul: Here you go Najla. Something to remind you of Peever forever.


The car bursts into groans...

The guy doesn't even notice our car is behind him...

then again, why would he...  his complete sensory system is out of whack.

... and we drive off.

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By the way...

It was mud.