We’re back from “The Christmas Story, Side B”, the part of the holiday during which we travel to NC to see my husband’s family. All-in-all it was a good trip, and this was a good holiday for us (yes, even with all the illness from before and a possible touch of food poisoning courtesy of the “golden arches” somewhere near Asheville).
On the way home tonight I was thinking about some of the extra cash we have received over the past week in the form of gifts and my first (yay!) speaker honorarium (I’m official!). As visions of after Christmas clearance sales and a few nicer-than-usual meals danced in my head, I forgot all about the unspoken rule in our world. You see, it seems that somewhere, a long time ago, it was established that any time our family finds ourselves with any financial room to breathe, something big must break or die. I’ve come to believe that it is actually somehow a law of nature that even affects other people, but is specifically targeted at our family. Oh, when am I ever going to learn, though, to just assign that “extra” money to the “repair and replacement fund” the minute we get it? Why do I have to tease myself by daydreaming about things like SpotBots and computer monitors – things that will never come to pass as long as “the rule” stands?
So, you might have guessed, we didn’t even make it home before “the rule” was upheld in force. As we crested that hill less than 2 miles from our driveway and nestled into the curve of the road, my eyes locked onto the metal road sign we’ve passed a million times that says “Dangerous Intersection”. Though nothing was happening yet, it was as if my mind was saying, Take a good look at that sign, because you’re about to become very familiar with it.
It was at this point that the tires on our 1997 Town and Country decided they were tired of the wet roads we had been traveling for the past 5 hours, and simply refused to respond to any commands my husband gave them from the steering wheel. Locked in the motion of the curve we had already begun, our van stubbornly pirouetted its way across the oncoming lane and into a ditch, spinning at least one and half times before resting against that sign I had been admiring. Just like that, our front bumper and who knows how much of that “extra” cash were both ripped away in the same, unbelievable moment.
Accept for hearing me yell “Jesus! Help us!”, our two boys didn’t even notice anything had happened. They were so glued to the third showing in a row of “Meet the Robinsons” they completely missed the whole dance. I’m very thankful that Jesus did, indeed, help us. No one was hurt and thanks to in-car DVD players no little ones will have nightmares tonight. And who knows what could have happened if that sign wasn’t there? Yes, we might still have a bumper, but we might also still be in that ditch in a lot worse trouble.
And so it is. My friend Laurie (who I am very thankful for) is driving over right now to rescue us from the effects of “the rule” with her spare van that seems to spend more time in my driveway than it does in hers lately. Oh well. Next year maybe we should ask for “extra cash” and honorariums in the form of gift certificates that can’t be spent at auto repair centers. Although, that might be just another way of asking for the fridge to die… Infernal rule...
On the way home tonight I was thinking about some of the extra cash we have received over the past week in the form of gifts and my first (yay!) speaker honorarium (I’m official!). As visions of after Christmas clearance sales and a few nicer-than-usual meals danced in my head, I forgot all about the unspoken rule in our world. You see, it seems that somewhere, a long time ago, it was established that any time our family finds ourselves with any financial room to breathe, something big must break or die. I’ve come to believe that it is actually somehow a law of nature that even affects other people, but is specifically targeted at our family. Oh, when am I ever going to learn, though, to just assign that “extra” money to the “repair and replacement fund” the minute we get it? Why do I have to tease myself by daydreaming about things like SpotBots and computer monitors – things that will never come to pass as long as “the rule” stands?
So, you might have guessed, we didn’t even make it home before “the rule” was upheld in force. As we crested that hill less than 2 miles from our driveway and nestled into the curve of the road, my eyes locked onto the metal road sign we’ve passed a million times that says “Dangerous Intersection”. Though nothing was happening yet, it was as if my mind was saying, Take a good look at that sign, because you’re about to become very familiar with it.
It was at this point that the tires on our 1997 Town and Country decided they were tired of the wet roads we had been traveling for the past 5 hours, and simply refused to respond to any commands my husband gave them from the steering wheel. Locked in the motion of the curve we had already begun, our van stubbornly pirouetted its way across the oncoming lane and into a ditch, spinning at least one and half times before resting against that sign I had been admiring. Just like that, our front bumper and who knows how much of that “extra” cash were both ripped away in the same, unbelievable moment.
Accept for hearing me yell “Jesus! Help us!”, our two boys didn’t even notice anything had happened. They were so glued to the third showing in a row of “Meet the Robinsons” they completely missed the whole dance. I’m very thankful that Jesus did, indeed, help us. No one was hurt and thanks to in-car DVD players no little ones will have nightmares tonight. And who knows what could have happened if that sign wasn’t there? Yes, we might still have a bumper, but we might also still be in that ditch in a lot worse trouble.
And so it is. My friend Laurie (who I am very thankful for) is driving over right now to rescue us from the effects of “the rule” with her spare van that seems to spend more time in my driveway than it does in hers lately. Oh well. Next year maybe we should ask for “extra cash” and honorariums in the form of gift certificates that can’t be spent at auto repair centers. Although, that might be just another way of asking for the fridge to die… Infernal rule...
No comments:
Post a Comment