Page 50 of Own the Eights Gets Married
“Don’t let Buck get to you. He loves sneaking up on people,” Syd said, giving her husband a playful smack on the arm.
“That’s not creepy,” Georgie muttered.
“What’s that?” Buck asked.
“We brought atowel,” Georgie supplied.
Buck cocked his head to the side. “A towel?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“How are you going to dig a hole to take a shit in with a towel?” Buck asked.
Georgie’s mouth fell open. “We have to go to the bathroom in a hole we dig ourselves?”
“Here, we’ve got an extra,” Syd said, retrieving a small shovel propped against the yurt.
She held it out for him, and he took the shit shovel, doing his best to touch as little of the handle as possible and praying his fiancée had packed hand sanitizer.
He glanced at Georgie and found her frozen in place, staring in horror at the gardening implement.
“Sweet dreams,” Syd called in a singsong voice as the couple disappeared into the darkness.
