Stupid Is as Stupid Does

"And far be it from me to ever let my common sense get in the way of my stupidity. I say we press on.” ― Sherrilyn Kenyon, Infinity

"How are you going to tell this story without making me look bad?" Eric asked as we drove away from Zambian immigration.  He knew that this blog post was imminent and begged for mercy.

I thought for a moment and graciously responded, "The truth is, Eric, all of us do dumb things. In fact, I think each person is allowed 1000 Stupid Points a year."

"Ok...," he said.

"Remember when, today, you made fun of me, because I couldn't pump the sunblock out of the bottle, so I unscrewed the lid and wiped the straw over my arm?"  I asked.

"Yeah, that was something else.  All you had to do was turn the head in the direction of the arrow that was printed on the top of the head and...voilà! It's like a magic pump!" Eric grinned.

"Yeah," I said.  "That was worth 1 Stupid Point.  Me?  I like to use my points one or two at a time."

He nodded.

"You?  You like to blow them all at once. Don't get me wrong.  I'm ever-so-grateful, because I needed some  blogging material."

"Oh.  Good point."

So without further ado...this blog post is dedicated to my handsome and very intelligent husband:

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Oliver and Aunt Lisa in the Safari Truck

Eric's sister Lisa is visiting Zambia.  To punish ourselves celebrate, we piled into the car and headed down to Victoria Falls.  Oliver didn't appreciate Victoria's cold deluge, and I didn't appreciate slipping-on-my-bum on Knife's Edge bridge while holding my screaming toddler.  Come on Zambia...let's de-slime the bridges, so people don't have to break a hip while viewing one of the Natural Wonders of the World.  

Happy family at the top of Victoria Falls

But I digress...

The following day we crossed the border to Botswana and safaried by boat and car.  

Sorry...but another digression...

Message for safari knuckleheads:  NOBODY cares what you've seen on previous safaris.  I don't care if you've seen a 5-legged giraffe doing the Macarena...don't bother mentioning it on a my safari. 

A common one-upmanship conversation goes like this:

Person A:  It was SSSSSSSOOOOOOOO amazing.  We saw a lion!
Person B:  Really?  That's great.  I remember when we saw a whole lion family wrestling with each other.  I'll never forget how cute the newborn cubs were.
Person C:  Lions are nice, but the most spectacular thing I've ever seen was a leopard  making a kill while giving birth.  

Don't get me wrong: lion cubs are adorable.

The worst time to hear this conversation is on a safari when all the animals are hiding, except the troop of baboons, which--let's be honest--are the sewer rats of the safari world.

That day our safari was rather uneventful, with two exceptions:

1) The dung beetles.  They are fascinating little creatures.

I think we ran over this little lady with our truck.

2) The horny elephant.  And by "horny" I don't mean a rhino.  I'm talking about the, "Mommy, why does that elephant have 5 legs?" horny.  

The 5-legged elephant

After the safari, the Showells breezed through Botswana immigration and headed to Zambian immigration.  This particular border crossing is mayhem wrapped in chaos with a side of nonsense. There are semi-trucks and street vendors, armed guards and money changers.   If you are not used to it, it is sensory overload.  Add in three kids and you can understand why Eric didn't want to wait in the line with everybody else.

So he grabbed someone to help expedite the process.  The kids and I went to our car and waited.

And waited.  And waited.  Then our "expeditor" came out and asked if I had accidentally grabbed Lisa's passport, because it was missing.  I checked my bags.  Nope.  Not with us.

A few minutes later Lisa came out to the car.  She was shaking with anger.  "They've lost my passport," she said and tears spilled down her cheeks.  

By this time, I'd become BFFs with the money changers.  I told Lisa not to worry, but she was having none of it.  She was convinced that she'd never get out of Zambia.  Even the money changers told her to calm down.  "Don't worry, Madam.  Don't worry..."

"How can they lose my passport?  This is ridiculous!" she yelled back at them.

"I don't know.  Just have a little faith.  They'll find your passport," I said.  The Zambian men outside my car nodded.  They wanted her to calm down just as much as I did.

"In fact," I added, "I'm going to pray to Jesus that we find this passport."  I said a quick prayer, and the Zambians emphatically their "Amens!"

Lisa muttered, "Eric better not have my passport in his pocket..."

Less than a minute later Eric was back at the car.  

"Did they find it?"  I asked.

"Yes, but here's the problem..."he started.

"Where was my passport?" Lisa interrupted.  

"In my back pocket.  And the guy from immigration is really really angry and wants us to apologize," he said.

Then the LIVID immigration official appeared at my window.  Eric hadn't yelled or behaved inappropriately, but the tense situation made the immigration official lose face and people had assumed that he'd done something crooked, when, in fact, he had just been doing his job.  

Eric apologized.  Lisa apologized.  I apologized.  

And with that and a huge smile, the man let us go on our merry way.

That's how Eric spent his Stupid Points and how Lisa earned her African wings.  Funny thing is, she won't put her passport down and keeps talking about "not missing her flight."

Ah, Africa.  You never disappoint me.