Darryl cleaning up from doing
yard work for his own surprise Birthday party that he thought was a party for Jimmy whose Birthday is also this week. Poor guy.
Chasey chowing down at the party. He only lasted about an hour and then he snoozed through the rest of the party.
The really old geezers.
The Darryl roast.
Ryan and Evan laughing because everyone else was. ha
The poo-poo cake that Ryan and I made Dad. Caption read "Happy Birthday You Ole' Turd". He loved it! All of the little boys were
mesmerized by it's loveliness.
The Premier Party Planners!!! Thanks so much. I could not have pulled it off without you!!
Darryl had several friends from college, some co-workers, some family, and a few new friends at the party. Overall I think he was surprised and had a good time. My only regret was that we forgot to ask a blessing when it was time to eat. The Lord has blessed me with an amazing husband and father to our kids. He also blessed us with amazing weather that I had been praying for all week and I should have acknowledged HIM. I'll probably have to go to study hall for that when I get to heaven. Anyway, I also wish I had taken some photos after dark because Jimmy and I had strung up colored lights and
lanterns across the backyard and around the porch, and it looked great. (Actually we are going to leave them up until Labor Day...redneck, I know, but I don't care. They are bootiful.) The kids really enjoyed lighting sparklers which also added to the fun. Thanks to everyone who was able to come. The people really made it special. Here is story that Darryl's brother wrote about him and it is absolutely hilarious. It really sums up Darryl as a child.
"Many of you may be surprised to learn that Darryl Martin wasn’t always the caring, responsible, upstanding man that we’ve all come to know. In fact, as a child, Darryl was nothing like that description.
Believe it or not, the following words and phrases were often used by others in reference my little brother:
Problem-child, mean-as-a-rattlesnake, rotten-to-the-core, spawn of satan, hell-on-wheels, future inmate and devil-boy.
It’s a well-known fact in Piedmont, Alabama that Darryl single-handedly accounted for the early retirements of seven Piedmont City schoolteachers, three counselors, two principals, one Superintendent, four janitors and a lunch-lady.
The following incident is a prime example of the type of kid Darryl Martin was. It occurred during the fall of 1979, when I was a Senior in high school and Darryl was about 10-years-old.
One Sunday, he invited two of his best friends — of similar low character — to spend the day messing around the woods outside our parent’s house. They were twin hellions, named Ricky and Randy — or as I called them — “Dickie and Dandy.”
The boys had entertained themselves Piedmont-style that afternoon, mostly in Charlie Miller’s pasture, pouring salt on slugs, catching black widow spiders in Mom’s good Mason jars, shooting lizards and torturing snakes, when a sudden thunderstorm drove them inside.
Normally, Dickie and Dandy weren’t even allowed indoors, but since there was a strong chance they’d be struck by lightning, Mom reluctantly unlocked the door and let them in.
They remained suspiciously quiet for the rest of the afternoon, leaving me with an uneasy feeling. But since they’d been relegated to one back-bedroom, no fires had been set and the cat was still alive at the time Mom took Dickie and Dandy home, I figured that maybe they were too worn out to have done evil. Oh, how wrong I was.
As I was showering and shampooing for school the next morning, I was still scratching my head about the lack of destruction from the previous day.
Then I began to notice that no matter how hard I scrubbed, or how much I used, the shampoo just wasn’t lathering very well.
That’s when the odor hit me. To this day, I still remember my thought process as reality set in. It went something like this: “Man, what is wrong with this shampoo? … Gee, something smells like pee ... … oh no … NO … it can’t be … DARRYL!!!!”
After sterilizing my whiz-ridden hair with scalding water for the next 30 minutes, I rushed from the bathroom and scoured the house for Darryl. But he had mysteriously disappeared. In fact, I think he vanished for the next four days.
Years later, after I cooled off, he offered an explanation. It seems that during the storm, he, Dickie and Dandy all needed to go to the bathroom simultaneously, but were afraid that lightning would strike the house, run through the toilet, shoot up their tee tee streams and into their goo goos.
So logically, they found an alternate vessel — Mom’s shampoo bottle — to relieve themselves. Somehow, they’d forgot to mention it to anyone.
To this day, I’ve never fully forgiven my youngest brother, but I must admit that several girls commented on how shiny my hair looked that day.
And — although I can’t prove it — I have reason to believe that Darryl is at least partially responsible for the hairline that I have today.
Happy Birthday D!"Tomorrow,
the 19
th is the big day!!!
