My headline might have been misleading. Nothing bad is going on in my life, quite the contrary. Instead, the inspiration of this post is literally poo. Petrified poo to be exact.

How cool is that?!?! I’m trying to imagine the 20 foot sloth that produced that sample. At first I was a bit grossed out that the guy is holding it. After a second, though, I was wondering what it felt like. I wanted to touch it! Like REALLY wanted to touch it.

The last time I had a desire that strong was when I was Oslo, Norway. There it wasn’t about excrement, but something MUCH larger and less smelly. I went to the Viking Ship Museum I’d been reading about for months before my trip. As the doors opened to the museum, there it was: The Oseberg ship.

This wooden ship was excavated in 1904 after having been buried for more than 1000 years! It’s wood, it was buried in mud, and it still had this level of detail!

I had to touch it. It wasn’t a want; it was a need. Now, anyone who has read this blog for any length of time knows about me and rules (review: for them!). The boat did have a rope barrier, which I would never dream of crossing. There were, however, places along the ends where the ropes were so close to the ship that one could reach out and touch it.

The guard in this museum had posts up high so he could see all around. I was not the only person in the museum when I was there, yet every time I looked up at the guard post, the guard was looking right at me! It didn’t matter if I stood still or kept moving, I was always under his watchful eye. I was’t going to do it with him watching me. He must have also heard the ship screaming at me to touch it and made it his mission to keep me from doing it.

I started to get desperate to make the guy stop looking at me. There were a couple teenaged boys in the museum at the same time I was there. I seriously contemplated paying them to cause a distraction so I could touch it. That’s when I knew I’d made the leap over to emotionally unstable and needed to leave the museum.

I mentally overcame the disappointment of not touching the ship by telling myself that the last thing I needed was to get arrested on day 2 of my Scandinavian adventure, because with my luck, my light touch of the ship would push it off its supports. Murphy likes me like that!

That did make me feel better.

Am I the only one out there that wants to feel the sloth dung? How many of you would have touched the Viking ship?