Kimmy Gibbler

Many years ago, it must have been either middle school or high school, my dad and sisters and I were traveling back from Texas where we had been visiting my grandma.

We were going through the airport security when the TSA agent started freaking out at me.  “Oh my God, it’s Kimmy Gibbler! Oh my God!”  He got all his coworkers to come look at me.  Suffice it to say, I was mortified.  I have never heard the end of it from my sisters.

I hoped and prayed that this would never happen.  Fast forward a few years to sophomore year of college.  I was in Venezuela with my church on a missions project.  We met a bunch of the local Venezuelans that we would be serving with.  Then it happened.  “KEEEEMMYY!!  KEEEMMYY GEEBLER!!!”  You’d think in Venezuela I’d be safe, no?  No.

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