Monday, May 3, 2010
This Is a Post About Happiness
I know I said a while back I'd spend more time writing about unicorns, but this collection of happy moments-though extremely random--will have to do. Before you think I've gotten off scott-free, however, I'll relay a little tale of what I thought was going to go down this week; i.e. more tears/bloodshed/overeating:
It was mostly things taking place in/pertaining to my car, starting with Monday morning when I took the kids to school in the Swagger Wagon. We stopped at the end of our street, which faces the entrance to an elementary school and also intersects with another, fairly busy road on which people like to pretend they're super-cool and drive like maniacs. Of course, this (maniacal driving) bothers me to such a degree that the only way I think I'd be able to ride bikes with the children on said road (which has sidewalks) is if I was fully anesthetized and instead of riding my bike, Joshua was pushing me on a stretcher. And the kids were on the moon.
It's really quite awful.
Anyway, so I see these two cuties, obviously brother and sister-approaching the intersection to first cross in front of me, then cross the big scary street. I smiled, then put my hand up as if to say, "wait", and they waited while I checked each direction to make sure they were safe from all sides. Then I put my car in park in case my body became inhabited by aliens who made me step on the gas at the wrong time, then I waved them on to cross in front of me. AND THEN. Then, a really humongous silver SUV came barreling down the pike and made a right-hand turn onto my street, which meant I had to fully extend my arm out of the car to implore these sweet children to abort their street-crossing mission lest they be pulverized by Gas Guzzler. I also may have yelled, "No." I'm not sure; it all happened very fast. The important part is, they stepped back onto the curb and were safe. The driver of the monster-truck, however, was so mad at me he actually came to a near-stop alongside the Swagger Wagon to give me a look I'm sure he thought was withering. It was one of those "how dare you even exist" looks. But listen. Clearly I exist to keep people like him out of jail for committing vehicular homicide, where I'm quite certain he would have died a broken man. I get no respect, I tell you.
But anyway, what happened next was this: on the way home from drop-off, my turn signals stopped working. And then my hazards. Next was my horn. And then, and I swear this is 100% true, a spider dropped down, from the interior ceiling of the car, right onto my steering wheel. And then I screamed because I thought my car was going to eat me. But that's where the trouble ends, peeps, because my adoring/adorable husband took it to the shop to be repaired, and things started looking up.
The next day, I got a world-class email from my father that was so full of encouragement I'm considering having the contents tattooed on so I don't forget. Then, a random phone call from a person who shared amazing perspective and hope in the midst of our weird life, and THEN, a real letter in the mail, for Joshua, that I may be wallpapering our bathroom with. You know, the bathroom-isn't that where you do your deep thinking/self-evaluating? This last letter even had a little compliment for me slipped in there, but I was so happy for my husband that I didn't even notice it. Until he pointed it out, then of course I made him read it to me three times while I sat on the couch smiling like a fat cat.
In Other Happy Events, the following items occurred: We went to a crawfish boil where we danced in our bare feet, and I was only a little bit afraid that my whole shirt would fly up/I would fall down and break all the nails on my left hand like I did on our honeymoon. Also, there was a really amazing thunderstorm which was awesome, yet didn't flood our basement. Next, we took the children to a French restaurant for brunch and we didn't get kicked out. And, we scored the mother lode of hand-me-downs from some friends...clothes and things for Winnie...including a pink alarm-clock in the shape of a castle that plays princess music and projects twinkly stars onto the ceiling. So now, every morning, we get to wake up to the sweet sounds of Cinderella and her Woodland Friends reminding us that our rainbow will indeed come smiling through. And now that I think about it, that's the closest I've got to a post about unicorns. Cheers!