Saturday, December 5, 2009

What?!



Am wondering why I’ve broken or damaged so many things lately and when this unusual trend is going to stop. When we were in Chicago on one of our last days there, I went to see Aunt Ruth who was only three days into her new life at the memory care center. (see a previous post) It was dark by the time I drove home through rush hour traffic. And in my defense, I think I was a little teary and a little dreamy thinking about old age and all, and probably not paying as much attention as I should. At one point everyone was gridlocked and stopped at a railroad crossing, I was about three cars back from the track, but still behind the yellow line. Suddenly they all rushed forward and the red lights started flashing and the bell started ding-dinging and you could see a commuter train coming and there I was sitting alone at the head of the line. I thought, “Okay, I’m safe, I think. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’ll just sit here” when I heard a thunk - the gate had come down on my rear and I swear I was BEHIND the yellow line. So what corrupt little official from the IDOT thought up THAT little traffic plan? I sat there and sat there, sweating and writhing, expecting some brutal cop to arrive any second, with the gate resting on my trunk afraid to do ANYthing and thousands of people behind me laughing and looking at my license plates. “Ooooo, she’s from Minnesota. What a moron! Don’t they have TRAINS in Minn-eh-so-da? Could that be Brett FAVRE!” The train looked like it had stopped and I couldn’t stand it any longer so I hit the accelerator and rocketed across in front of it. So, okay, there was a little bump and a scrape. But I didn’t care. I fled hoping I could turn the corner and never see that stupid track or all those stupid people again. When I got back to Marsena’s I snuck out with the flashlight to check the damage. Is it soooo bad if all you did was put a scratch down to the metal that’s maybe, oh, eighteen inches long that can easily be repaired with a little clear nail polish, plus it’s the only scratch you’ve ever put in your fairly new car, not counting the time I backed into a cement girder and tore off the front fender? I don’t think so. And besides, the LAST person to do damage was someone ELSE who won’t be named who backed out of the garage and BROKE OFF the side view mirror. I haven’t done that. I rest my case. And although I was going to confess other things in this post, I’ll just say that I did break my new glass teakettle, which I only had four days, and which I secretly spent a lot of time finding online but not THAT much money, and which looks like I shot it with a tiny bullet, because it’s getting late and I need to go to bed.

4 comments:

John said...

whoa.

Pat said...

Oh my, at least you got out of the way of the train--better a scrape on the back of the car.

I, myself, am in the category of backing out of the garage and knocking the side mirror off the car--with my husband at the end of the driveway who said NO disparaging words. What a man! And in my defense, I was a bit distracted trying to avoid running over said husband...

Travis said...

wow... just laughed so hard. probably not what you want to hear but you made my day.

Sandra Oster said...

Oh, Margie. I have been spilling things on myself lately. Not the image I want to send to friends I'm just getting to know. Oh well. The real me really did follow me to NZ.