It seems lately that I have been having a very hard time getting up in the mornings. I have to believe it's because I have been going to bed so late, sometimes as late as 1 or 2 in the morning. What's keeping me up? Oh, any number of things. Lately, excitement over a writing contest I am entering, but also everyday junk wants to do a tap dance on my mind when I am trying to settle down as well.
Last night I went to bed after 1 am and with it being the same weekend that I "sprung forward" for daylights savings time, I should have known the chances of a mishap occurring would be better than average. Ray got up and took off for Alabama to finish up working on a job there, I got up, sipped my coffee and shuffled around the house givin' myself the old pep talk; "It's gonna be a great day! Boy O' Boy, it won't get dark early tonight (yawn), Yay, three more days till the weekend."
That is when I do the totally idiotic. I sit down to the computer to "check my email", that totally translates to lookin' on fb. Next thing I know it is 7:00 and I haven't even showered yet! Thankfully I did have the wherewithal to get Abby up at her regular time so she is clippin' right along. Me? Not so much. I go from laid back to full speed ahead in 60 seconds flat. I jump in the shower, get dressed and make sure that we water and feed all the animals, then head toward the door with no time to spare.
As I grab up my bag I notice that Abby has some sort of project she is holding in her hands. I ask her, "Whatcha got there?" She tells me that it is a pickle. A pickle? "Well, put it in a baggie, why do you have it on a paperplate?" That's when she tells me that she has sliced this pickle up so that she can easily share it with her friend as they wait in the bus room, a/k/a the lunchroom, at school. (We go through a lot of pickles around here and buy them in gallon jars. They are the large pickles that you see for sell at concession stands.) I told her that she was going to drip juice on herself, she needed to put that in a plastic bag. She says "No, it will be fine, I will be careful with it." I give her the you've been warned look and we head out the door.
We pile in the truck, I double check the time, 7:55, yep it's close, but we will be just fine and we head off for the school. We get no further than the top of the street and I hear a sharp intake of breath from Abby. I didn't even have to look to know what that was about. I glance over at her, sure enough, pickle juice everywhere in her lap. Either that or she peed her pants. I don't say a word and she says "it's fine just keep going." With that said, she proceeds to stretch her T-Shirt down to show me how effectively she can disguise her wardrobe malfunction.
I was too mad for words, but in my mind I'm saying "Satan will be strappin' on ice skates before I let you go to school with pickle juice all over you!" With that I slammed my truck into reverse and boiled the tires all the way back down to my house. At least I had my head on straight enough to make sure that I was on the opposite side of the street so that I would not collide with anyone heading out of the subdivision. Let me say this, your head is never on straight if your mad enough to chew nails and spit rivets. I slowed down enough so that I could haul buggy backwards up my driveway, or so I thought....
I stop short of my driveway by about a foot and a half and instead of continuing straight up the driveway as planned, I slam right into the mailbox. This does little to improve my mood. I pull forward halfway expecting to find that the mailbox is somehow embedded into my tailgate (wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake) or hung on my bumper and I will have to add insult to injury by having to get out and manhandle the stupid thing out of the clutches of the truck body. Thankfully that did not happen. I pull forward and it just leans way over and looks an awful lot like the town drunk three sheets to the wind.
That didn't stop me for long, up the driveway I go at a pretty good clip, I lost steam right before I could do any damage to Alex's car parked under the carport. I look at Abby and tell her she had better make it fast because I was not going to be late for work. She jumped out of the truck like a scared rabbit.
I still don't know how she did it but she had changed pants and was out of the house and back in the truck all buckled up before I could even find a song on the radio that I wanted to listen to. I guarantee you she got her pants out of the dirty clothes hamper cause there is no way she could have found anything to wear that fast. I am almost positive, but well past the point of caring.
Do I regret my little display? Yeah.....well no, not really, ok yes I regret it. I hate that I nailed the mailbox with my truck. I'm not too happy that I will now have to buff the white paint out off of the tailgate. I am eternally grateful that the mailbox was there and that the good Lord stopped me from being stupid one foot over as I would have ended up backing my truck into a culvert a good three foot below street level.
Who knows, maybe she will do what I suggest next time, then again maybe not. I think I should have just let her go to school with pickle juice pee stain on her clothes......
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