Another gem from the peak Port O'Connor days. I don't think this one came from a holiday weekend, but at age nine or so I wasn't always cataloging details correctly. Anyway, again, it's the end of the weekend and my family is left to clean up my grandparents' bay house after all the other families have left. My dad is putting beach shoes and the like in their place on the back porch and notices some kid's underwear on the ground. He picked it up and noticed an unexpected heft. He took a quick glance inside the underoos and confirmed his suspicion. Then, with a look of absolute disbelief, he turned to Ojo and said, "There's shit in there."
I've always thought that was a funny story, but as I got older I found it less amusing. Turns out those underoos belonged to my cousin JT who had some continence issues as a small kid when his parents were getting divorced. Kind of sucks that I wasn't more sensitive to that back then.