Over the long holiday weekend, we spent a lot of time outdoors. Us, plus outdoors, equals allergies.

We had a great barbecue over at my parents' house on July 3rd, and on the way home, we were all feeling a little itchy, scratchy and stuffy. We took some allergies meds, we did. I swear. Yet a few hours into the party, we were all starting to feel the effects of my parents' yard blooming and the breeze blowing.

On the way home, we drove through the twilight, eyes tearing and hearts noses filling.

Before heading to the party, I had cleaned out the van, tossing all the floating packages of tissues into the trunk. This was not helpful at all when my husband's allergies triggered his sinuses to GO! GO! GO!

Desperate for a tissue, and on a road with no shoulder to pull off on, he started making bleating noises and flapping his hands in the general vicinity of his face. I clutched the wheel and told him to hold that thought.

The bleating and flapping continued, and turned into a high-pitched whine. The man needed to blow his nose something fierce.

Horrors - I could see a sneeze building. My windshield was about to get plastered with snot. I cursed the lack of ejector seats and barrelled on, snarling "don't you daaaaaaare."

A few more turns and I was able to pull into the parking lot of a convenience store. I leaped out of the driver's seat, heading for the trunk to get the kleenex. The husband simultaneously leaped out of the passenger side door, took two steps and unleashed an unholy sneeze that emptied both nostrils onto the pavement and left him lurching around like he had been hit by a stun gun.

The world froze for a moment, and the husband, the clerk behind the store counter, my kids, the guy who was walking into the store to buy some brews and I all contemplated the results of my husband's sneeze. The kids started up with a bunch of "eeeew grosssss" and I slapped a box of tissue into my husband's chest. He was still semi-crouched with his hands on his knees, recovering from The Sneeze That Shook Down The Town And Left Craters In the Pavement. He gingerly wiped his nose and handed me back the box.

Then he bought a soda from the store. I mean, that's the least we could do, right?

Two days later, replaying the scene in my head, I started giggling, picturing it from the perspective of an innocent bystander. It was like a superpower - where the fledgling superperson is still learning how to control the toxic goo or lazerbeam eyes or whatever.

The only thing that would make it better would be if he had said "Sorry about that, man" and saluted the clerk.