I Hate Dookie!!!!

I don't know if you would call this getting "back to my roots", but from what I hear, some of my most laugh producing pukes have been about some kind of bodily function.  Whether it be me pooping myself, people farting in line, or me wiping a step-child's behind, (if you haven't read those, go back and read them!!!!) everyone has a story about a time that they were in shock over the horror of some bodily function that invaded their life.  I, however, feel the need to write about it.  Yep!!!  I'm one sick puppy, but you love me for it!!!  Just admit it won't you?   So grab a chair, have a seat, and grab that barf bag for I am going to tell you a tale of one of the worst times I have ever had with the brown log, the butt biscuit, the brown banana, the chocolate hot dog,  the butt brownie, the dookie-doo, the log, and my personal favorite. . . .Mr. Hanky!!!   As always, I will take you there with me and let you feel the pain that I felt on that Christmas morning a long, long time ago.  Fa La Freaking La!!!!  Come on!

I'm going to start this tale with the back story of what led up to this fateful Christmas morning for me and gave me a WHOLE new meaning to the term Yule Log.  The person I was living with at the time wanted nothing more than a black Chow, and me being the sweet guy that I am, decided to see what I could do about it.  Times were tough and I knew we couldn't afford a new Chow puppy, but I went on a quest to see if I could find a slightly used model at a discounted price.  After some time searching, I came across a person that was giving away a 2 year old black Chow to a good home.  That had my cheap butt written ALL OVER IT!

We loaded up the car and drove out to see the dog and it was one of those situations that you find yourself in that you are not sure about doing it, but looking at the dog makes you feel guilty if you turn around and leave.  The dog seemed okay, but it was definitely a used dog.  It had been kept outside and we were looking for an inside one, but after a few minutes of being around the dog, we decided to go ahead and give him a shot and we took him home with us.  His name was Cody and we were now his owners. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm an animal lover.  Heck, just go back and read my puke on when I put my dog Kong to sleep, and you will know that I have a soft spot in my heart for animals.  I love animals!!!  I tried to bond with Cody, but he was a little skittish and not very loving.  I'm sure he was scared and confused, so we did our best to make him feel right at home.  I will say, even looking back now, I never really formed a bond with that dog, which is really weird for me.  I'm the type of person that most pets love right away and we become buddies instantly.  This didn't happen with this one, so I was pretty sure this was going to go into the "bad idea" file pretty quickly.

We were about a week from Christmas when we got him, and while we gave him plenty of attention and love, you could just tell that he was stressed out by the change in his routine.  How did I know this?  Well after about the forth day, I noticed that he hadn't pooped at all since we had him.  I would take him out, he would pee, but he would not drop that deuce.  It now became a matter of concern for us, because you could look at his brown eye and see that it was beginning to swell with the brown flood waiting to come out.  Now I was about to "help" him with the process, but I was considering blowing as hard as I could in his mouth with hopes that would shoot that log across the yard.  We then decided that we had better keep him outside for a bit and figured that since he was being kept outside before we got him, maybe he would feel more relaxed and let that puppy fly.  NOPE!!!!  Didn't happen.  Not a bit of Christmas "rear" coming out of Cody.  We finally figured that if nothing happened by Christmas, we would take him to the vet to get checked out and hopefully cleaned out before this poor dog exploded.

(Fast forward to Christmas morning)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!  The presents were under the tree, we let Cody in the house for Christmas morning, and everyone got presents that day, I just didn't know at the time, that Cody had a present in mind for me a little later on in the morning.  The gifts were now open and everyone was settling down after the whole, 5:30 am wake-up.  For those of you that have step children, you know that Holidays are a weird time for everyone involved when everyone lives in the same town.  You have to take the kids to their Father's and their grandparents from that side of the family.  Well I was fairly new into this whole relationship, and let's just say that I wasn't going to be the most welcomed at either one of those homes.  I told her to go ahead and take them over there to get their loot, and I would stay at the apartment and wait for them to get done.  STUPID ME!!!! For I had no idea what the next hour after they left was going to be like thanks to "Cody. The swollen butt reindeer".  Everyone got ready and headed out to do the loop.  I said goodbye at the door and figured I would go ahead and grab a shower and get ready for later in the day when we would go to the family that I was accepted at.

At the time, we lived in a rather small two bedroom apartment.  There was a living room, kitchen, a small hallway that led to a bathroom straight ahead, our room on the right, and the kids room on the left.  Got the lay out???   Well I headed towards the bathroom and when I walked in, I about gagged on the smell that hit me when I walked in.  I was in shock that one of the three that just left could leave me with that craptacular smell without leaving a candle or incense burning, even though it might not have been very safe having an open flame around that smell.  It was one of those smells that a zombie could walk in after rotting in the ground for two years and after having tripped and fell into a septic tank, climb out and walk into my bathroom and say, "WHEW!!!  That stinks!!!!  . . . . . Braaains". 

I walked straight to the toilet expecting to see a "rank raft" floating in the bowl, but upon my inspection I noticed two things.  Number One:  The bowl was crystal clear. and Number Two:  The smell was not as bad inside the bathroom as it had been in the hallway.  So I stepped out of the bathroom and smelled death and then stepped into the bathroom and just caught a hint of fecal fragrance.  Stepped out, stepped back in, stepped out, back in and then it dawned on me.  Where in the world was Cody?????  I remember him being in the house, but I don't remember seeing him for a while.  You could see the wheels click in my brain as I tried to process the fact that we left a loaded dog unattended and I was all alone in the apartment.

I stepped back into the hallway and noticed that the smell was stronger on the left, the kids room, than on the right, my room.  The kid’s door was opened a crack and it might has well been the doorway to Hell from the odor that was pouring out of that room.  I debated life at that moment and wondered if I just shut the door, went ahead and got ready, and then hid in my bedroom until everyone got home, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to deal with any of what I was now sure had happened in that room.  I was convinced that the dog had finally exploded.  Well once again, that whole "sweet guy" took over and decided that I would have to be the one to take care of this.  After all, how bad could it be right?  So I opened the door.

Two more things happened at that moment.  Number One:  Cody came running out of the room which at least made me feel better because he at least hadn't blown up from the pressure and Number Two: The smell that hit me square in the face was unlike any I have ever smelt before.  It was like a turd took a crap and then THAT turd took a crap and we were now down to just pure turd goodness.  Then I made the mistake of turning on the light.

*Click*  GASP!!!!!   (DRY HEAVE)

I've seen a lot of horror movies, I've seen crime scenes, I've see Jersey Shore, and nothing, and I MEAN NOTHING, could prepare me for what my eyes took in on that Christmas morning.  It looked like Santa had parked his sleigh in the kids room and all the reindeers had just gotten done eating Fiber Plus.  I scanned the room quickly to see what was in store for me.  There about three feet in, there was some mushy paste on the carpet that went for a couple of feet,  the next thing was a trail of little turds that went a couple of more feet, then there on the floor was the BIGGEST turd I had/has/hopefully will ever have seen in my life.  This thing was about the size of my forearm.  I swear that if I would have been thinking clearly, I would have called the Guinness Book of World Records and gotten this turd in that book and it would STILL be in the book even to this day under the "World’s Largest Turd" category.  Then, after this Poopy Mammoth, there was another trail of small turds, and then it appeared that Cody must have farted at the end, because there was sphincter spackle on the walls and on the brand new Batman tent that we had gotten the stepson that morning that he already put in the room.  Let's see Batman pull something out of his utility belt to help him out of THIS mess.

You know those out of body experiences you hear about?   Well I think I had one at that moment.  I just stood there and stared at the disaster that was before my eyes and I just couldn't imagine that what I was seeing was real.  I just wanted to roll up in the fetal position and rock back and forth calling for my Mommy.  Then reality, and my weak stomach, hit me square in the face.  If you have ever had that immediate gag reflex, you know what I'm talking about.  It was like someone kicked me square in the gut by the way I doubled over.  Thank God the bathroom was right there, because the last thing I wanted to do at that moment was to add my stomach contents in that mixture from the Poop Land Express.   I dry heaved for a few minutes as the slide show of what I just saw raced through my mind and the smell that was now INSIDE my body wouldn't go away. 

After those few long minutes, that whole flight and fight thing was having a battle with each other.  My flight side wanted to just jump in the car and drive, where my fight side was telling me to be a man and clean up the mess before anyone got home.   Dang fight side won!!!!!  I needed a plan though to accomplish this with minimal amount of heaving and also to get it done as quickly as possible before I just passed out from the trauma.

I figured that I would need something to kill the smell and something to block the smell from getting in first.  Off to the kitchen I ran to grab the Flowery Air Freshener can and to wrap three dish towels around my nose and mouth.  I looked like the world's stupidest bandit at that moment.  My weapon, the air freshener, and the apple dish towel that hid my identity.  With that out of the way, I now needed to figure out what I was going to clean up all this "stuff" with.  I figured a roll of paper towels, the trash can, and some generic cleaner would do the trick.  So off to Hell I went to clear the room of the dookie demons that infested it. 

My first step was to unload the entire contents of the can of air freshener into the room.  Not once letting up on that trigger until nothing else came out of it.  Even with my three dish towels on my face, the smell was still seeping in.  It now smelt like someone took a dump in a rose garden in there.  I knelt down and started with the hard little turds figuring that they would be the simplest to get out of the way, well the moment my hand hit the first one, my gag reflex kicked in and I had to run to the bathroom to download the contents of my stomach.  I rushed back in the room, grabbed some turds, threw them in the trash can, and then ran back into the bathroom to heave.  It was like watching some sick game show called "Grab the Turd for Cash".  I repeated this room to bathroom for quite some time, until I got most the small turds and the skid marks cleaned up.  I still had the monster turd to go and I didn't know how I was going to tackle it yet.

I walked into the room and eyed that thing and I swear it was looking back at me and I also swear I heard it laugh.  I figured I would just rush in and grab it like the rest of them and dispose of it quickly into the trash can.  Well once my hand hit that thing, it was like grabbing a large tree branch and IT WAS STILL WARM!!!  There was no making it into the bathroom that time and I dry heaved so hard my eyes watered.  Thank goodness there was nothing left in my stomach at that point, or that would have just finished me off right there.  I decided that I was going to need something to scoop this "Turdtanic" up with, so I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the dust pan.  My plan was pure genius.  I would scoop this thing up in one quick motion, dump it in the trash can, and then spray the carpet with cleaner and I would be done!!!  Whoo Hoo!!!  The perfect plan right??????

WRONG!!!!

I sucked in a deep breath, ran into the room, and bent over to scoop this log the size of a log into the trash can.  I knew something wasn't going to go right the second I lowered my dust pan to this monstrosity.  The turd was LONGER than the dust pan!  That's right; this mighty oak sized turd dwarfed my dust pan!!!  I went for the scoop anyway because I had to breathe shortly and I didn't want to be in there for the next breath I would take.   I decided to attack one side of it and figured that if I at least got 3/4's of it on the dust pan, I was fine.  I lifted it up and let me tell you right now, it was like lifting a 5 pound weight with a dust pan.  I got it halfway to the trash can and then it happened.  I had the dust pan okay, but the sheer weight of this Godzilla sized nugget caused the dust pan to bend.  So halfway up, this turd decided to roll/slide off the dust pan and fall back to the floor with a loud SPLAT!!!!  It also took this opportunity to fall into three separate pieces on the floor just to make this job even tougher for me.  Well once it hit the floor and broke open, I lost it once again.  This time, however, I found some liquid in my stomach to spill forth.  So, with eyes watering and holding a poop smeared dust pan, I puked.  Remember though, I had those three dish towels on my face.  So instead of "ralphing" on the floor, I puked right into the towel that was attached to my face.  The towel acted like a puke filter and there was not a lot that made it through the towel.  It just stayed right there attached to my face.  Talk about a sight to behold.

I think I must have cried out to God to please make this stop because I couldn't bear this poop filled cross that I was given anymore.  I yanked off my puke filled towels and just scooped those three poop piles into the trash can as fast as I could and then sprayed the floor with the rest of the cleaner and ran out of the room to breathe.  I slowly regained my composure and once I had, I ran into the room, grabbed the trash can and the dust pan and took them immediately outside to bake in the hot Florida sun. I kind of felt bad for the garbage men that would be picking up this Christmas bonus later on in the week.  I think by then I was in shock because I just sat down on the couch and tried to process the horror that I had just been through.   You couldn't have given me a more horrible scenario to live through at that point of my life.  Talk about a trial by fire, well that was a trial by feces!  So in closing. . . . .

I HATE DOOKIE!!!!!!!

SMILE!!!

Trip Down Memory Lane Pt. 4 - Vacation Stage 4 - The Trip Home

I will take a moment to apologize for the delay on stage 4, but . . . . Hey!!!  Life happens and my mood also had a lot to do with it.  I will refund any and all money paid for this puke if you feel cheated or robbed by the delay of this final part of the Vacation Stages.  Please contact my lawyer, Dewey Cheatum and How, at your earliest convenience.  With THAT out of the way, let's climb back in that station wagon and begin the last stage of every vacation. . . . The Trip Home.

(This is Stage 4 of this series so if you haven't read Stages 1-3, you have a lot of catching up to do.  You can't just jump into this during Stage 4 and expect to understand.  Stop being so lazy and go back and read Stages 1-3 so you can be on the same page with all the others, 6ish by the stats, which read this blog.  We'll wait. Go read them now)

Okay, I'm now assuming that we are all on the same page.  The vacation is now over and it's time for us to once again load up the car and drive that long distance back home.  What's the difference between the trip to your destination and the trip back to your home?   Why do I feel the need to dedicate an entire stage to it even though it's just driving again? To me, it's a whole different experience in the overall vacation trip.  The trip home is really the most painful part of any vacation in my book, and each person on that trip home has their own feelings that they have to work through during that drive.  More on that later though, let's grab our stuff and get going for the trip home.

The day you left to start the journey back home, tended to be a really depressing time for everyone involved.  You could be leaving relatives, friends, theme parks, ocean, or any number of cool places that you went to, behind, not to visit them again for at least another year, or perhaps ever again. (Like loony Uncle George)  To say that there was a plethora of bad moods going on in the family would be a major understatement.   Dad would be in a bad mood because he was going to have to get behind the steering wheel and drive some ridiculous length of time.  Mom would be grumpy because she knew that once again she had to keep Dad from killing us kids by being our entertainment and distraction.  All three of us kids were cranky because we just flat out didn't want to leave. We were getting spoiled by some relative that actually acted like they liked us and we could get used to that whole spoiled thing. 

As before, Dad was once again in charge of the packing, but there was one glitch in that for him.  While on vacation, we collected "stuff".  Like souvenirs, sea shells, clothes, toys, and many other things that weren't in the car when you left the first time.  Dad would pack the car like before, but as the packing proceeded, he would begin to notice that things weren't fitting back into the car as they had before.  The bright green suitcases were thicker, there were bags of dirty laundry that Mom had collected, there was a Nerf gun that was new, a doll staring at him that would poop on command, and a bunch of crap items that were not helping with the accomplishment of packing the car orderly.  Of course, this wouldn't help with Dad's mood at all, so us kids would make it a high priority to NOT be in sight of him while he packed.  We would be able to hear an occasional, "Where did THIS come from?" and "We are just going to have to leave it." between him and Mom, but we were not going to risk getting involved in that process because Mom would always find a way to make it all fit, much to the dismay of Dad who would utter, "This is ridiculous."  Without fail though, Dad would think the car was loaded until one of the relatives would bring out an item saying, "Don't forget this." which would elicit a loud groan out of Dad and I'm pretty sure at that moment, he wanted to strangle that person for finding that item.  You also had to count on the moment of the trip that you remembered something that you left behind.  Be it a shoe, a toothbrush, a pillow, or any other possible item, it would hit whoever like a ton of bricks and they would make that sucking in air sound like they had just been punched in the stomach.  Then you had to let Dad decide if it was worth turning back around for because he was the judge, jury, and executioner for that decision.  Usually though, the item was forever lost to you because he, "WASN'T TURNING AROUND FOR ANYTHING!!!".

If we were cramped on the drive to the destination, we now had the joy of being even more cramped for the ride home thanks to all the "stuff" we collected.  When we originally left on this vacation, I had a suitcase pressed against the back of my head and a cooler pushed against my "special place", but now I had both of those PLUS my feet were on top of a bag of dirty laundry that stunk, a thermos between me and Alice, and I had to hold the Nerf gun that I just "had to have" for the entire trip because there was no room for it anywhere else.  I wasn't able to move AT ALL due to the packing, and I was expected to be in this position for the next 8-10 hours.  I would have to say though, that if we would have gotten in a wreck, I would have never felt it or moved an inch due to all the items that surrounded me.  It was like my own little cocoon to keep me safe.  It wasn't just me though, Alice and Mark were both encased and Mom had so much crap at her feet, I had NO IDEA where her legs were during that return trip.  Heaven forbid that anyone of us was still going through sunburn pain, because there was NO sympathy when it came to that.  You were going to have something touching you at all times of that trip home and you were going to LIKE IT!!!! 

Now, as before, Dad was the driver and Mom was the navigator.  She would still have to look at the map on occasion, but this time she didn't even bother to attempt to fold the map back up.  She just threw it on the floor until it would next be needed.  Dad drove very quietly because I guess he knew at the time that his vacation was over.  The reality would sink in that he just got done working a whole year in order to take these two weeks off, and come Monday, he was done.  Back to the grind and back to reality.  Mom was aware of this and that is why she really had to be on the ball as far as keeping us three kids out of Dad's hair during this stage of the trip because she knew he was one, "Are we there yet?" away from becoming a serial killer.

I can remember though, that us three kids would still try to squeeze out more vacation the entire trip home.  How did we do this?  We would look at each and every billboard and decide that we should ask to stop at EVERY place advertised on them.  It didn't matter if the billboard said, "Come taste the World's best Brussel Sprout!!!” and not a single one of liked brussel sprouts? (and who in their right mind does?), we were going to ask to stop.  "Death Cave Tours in 24 miles" meant that we had only 24 miles to convince Dad to stop.  One of us would make that excited sound. . . . "Ohhhhhhhhhh"  then we would go into our sales pitch.  "The planets largest ear wax ball is just 13 miles away.  Can we go see it?"   Mom would usually handle this kind of thing with a quick and firm "NO.  We aren’t stopping anywhere."  Then my brother or sister would get in on the act and state, "Awwwwwww.  We really wanted to see the ear wax ball.  Please can we stop?"  Mom would once again say, "NO" and then one of us kids would usually throw the final plea out there of, "We never get to ANYTHING fun."  to which no response would come from the front seat and the exit for the "Planet's largest ear wax ball" would speed by.  No loss though, we still had 614 more billboards to ask about and we had nothing better to do.  Once every five years or so though, we would score big and get to do one of those highway tourist traps.  I can remember doing the Blue Hole in some state and a couple of the caverns between Florida and Ohio.  Those were always magical to me because it was so unplanned and any moment out of that car was a good moment.

As the hours in the car passed, talking became a thing of rarity because everyone was tired of traveling and just wanted to be home at that point.  It was like having 5 zombies sitting in a car.  The last hour or so would become almost unbearable due to everyone being stir crazy and wanting to get out of that car as fast as possible and you would also have Dad's paranoia kick in and he would just know that the house was sitting there in ashes due to the robber/arsonists that had their way with our house for the past two weeks.  This was the most miserable part of the trip because you were almost home . . . but not quite!!!!!! 

Now depending on what time of day you finally did get home determined how things went when you pulled in the driveway.  If we were lucky enough to arrive during daylight, there was a pretty good chance that one of my friends would see us arrive back home and come greet me the second we pulled in.  This would usually get me out of the whole unpacking stage because I would just run off with them to go play.  It was amazing how quick I got my energy back.  But . . . . if we didn't get home until after dark, it was the march of the living dead during the unpacking stage and then everyone would just go to bed to wake up to the mess in the morning.

The vacation was now over.  No one broke into the house, we all came back safe, and all that was left was the memories and the mountain of laundry that Mom had to get done in the next couple of days.  Life would go back to normal and Dad would go back to work.  We would all tell our friends of what a great time we had and all the amazing things we saw.  (Like the strip club in New York)  Mom would take the film to the Photoshop and a week or so later, we would have stacks and stacks of photos.  Of course, Mom wouldn't be in a single one of them because she was the one that always took the picture.

 Look Mom. . . .No Mom!!!!

(For those of you wondering, I'm the goofy one on the bottom left.  I want those shorts back!!!)

In closing this series though, I would like to take a moment to comment on what changes have happened that I have experienced in traveling now as an adult with kids.  You know that whole, "You kids have NO IDEA how good you have it these days." scenario.  Traveling has changed a lot in my eyes and you really have technology to thank for that.  Here are a few observations on traveling in this day and age.

#1.  I touched on it earlier during the Traveling Stage, but I will go into greater detail now.  The ability to have entertainment for everyone, except THE DRIVER, is really quite remarkable.  We now have the ability to have DVD players that fit in the head rest of the seats, video games that are hand held, cell phones that can access the Internet, Mp3 players that store thousands of songs, and really the list goes on and on as to what electronic devices you can have to entertain you in 2011.   About the only good thing going for the driver, is the advancement of satellite radio.  We no longer have to press the seek button every 2 minutes looking for ANY kind of music we like, we can just put it on one station and leave it if we want.  LONG LIVE THE 80's!!!!!!   The only thing that drives me up the wall is when someone from the back seat asks me to turn the music down so they can hear their music.  "NO!!!!!   I'm not going to turn it down!!!!  That's the ONLY form of entertainment I have during this trip and you aren’t ruining it for me!!!!!" 

#2.  I tend to find myself stopping to eat at restaurants more than we ever did when I was a kid.  There is just something about packing a cooler full of pre-made sandwiches and fruit that just grosses me out.  The sandwich doesn't taste good after about an hour of sitting in that cooler and who really wants fruit???  Nope, for me, I like to find places that I don't have in my hometown and eat there.  It's like a mini vacation for me.  Plus, with the value meals you can get from most fast food places, it's not worth it to lug a cooler with you filled with soggy sandwiches plus you also save room by not having a huge cooler "coffin" hogging up tons of space.  I will bring along snacks, NOT VEGGIES!!!!  Candy and chips will suffice and that way we can keep the sugar high going for the entire trip.

#3.  Finding a motel is now much easier and safer in my opinion.  It used to be that you would have to get off the highway to see if there was a motel there to stay in.  I can remember a few times it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.  You know, "Guests can check in, but they will NEVER check out!!!".  Sometimes you could even hear the banjo music even before you stopped the car.  Mom and Dad would usually be smart enough to keep going, but there were a few times I feared for my little 8 year old life and wondered if the eyes in that painting really did follow me.  Where was Scooby Doo when you needed him?

Now we have the Internet on our phones and we can plan the whole stop hours in advance.  Throw in Priceline and we can stay at a four star hotel for less than it would cost for a one star dump.  You just have to be willing to work a little at the planning of the trip, and you can really stay at some nice places for not much money.  There is nothing like staying in a $200 a night room for 50 bucks.  PLUS. . . . NO BANJO MUSIC!!!!!

#4.  Entertaining the kids is almost impossible without spending big bucks to do it.  Kids today are not happy with just hanging out at Grandma and Grandpa's house for an entire week because Grandma and Grandpa don't have a 62 inch flat screen with a PS3 hooked up to it.  So they can either go outside, which is like pulling teeth to a kid today, or they can sit and watch one of the four stations that actually come in off the antenna hooked to the roof.  Today's vacations tend to be very busy and hectic in my world because I'm trying to entertain everyone every day, and yes, that's my fault, but I want to build memories not traumatic boredom.  So we end up running around all over the place and by the time the week is over, you are so beat that you can't wait to get home.

#5.  The GPS is the coolest invention as it pertains to traveling.  I don't know how many times my overly large behind has been saved by that little box.  There is something so cool, and creepy, about that device knowing right where you are at at all times and being able to tell you how to get to where you want to go within 5 seconds.  No need for that huge map that will never fold back up, no need for that Road Atlas that half the pages are missing from, no need to hear your wife tell you you're lost again . . . . NOPE, just ask Mr. GPS and he will get you where you want to go.    I love my GPS and also love the fact that when I make a wrong turn, it just fixes the mistake and we move on instead of it telling me how crappy my Mother is or how my feet stink like cheese and death.  I tend to think that a lot of marriages have been saved thanks to this wonderful creation.

So that's that.  The mental station wagon is back in the garage and this trip is over.  The car is now unpacked and there is now a huge Kool-Aid stain on the back right floorboard carpet thanks to your clumsy sister that you are blaming it on even though you know full well you did it.  I hope you were able to enjoy the trip with me and have had this spark a memory or two for you about trips you have taken in the past.  Now grab you souvenirs and exit the vehicle in a calm and orderly fashion.

SMILE!!!!