Last night, after a HORRIFIC hour before dinner (I knew there wasn’t enough wood to knock on when I said “our kids are doing so well this Christmas”) we hurried through Chinese takeout and then headed to see Narnia as a family. (Powerful film, where the spiritual allegories cannot be misinterpreted). Kyle had parked the car behind the new van, so I had to resort to the old van.
So, we are heading home and I am deep in conversation/arguments with five boys about the movie. JImmy thought it was funny (I shake my head). Tony thought it was the best action movie he had ever seen. I was trying to draw spiritual analogies and should have known better, because I was not focusing on the road. A bright light shone round about me and I was sore afraid -- except that I thought it was Kyle or Bart in our car simply shining their brights telling me I was going to slow. We were on our street by this point, so I sped up... until I realized that it was the sheriff. Nobody in the vehicle has a seatbelt on. I am driving probably too fast, and my checkbook, along with license and insurance, is in the new van.
I’m sure the guy thought I was a lunatic. I opened the window and a barrage of words came pouring out of my mouth, without the benefit of having been guided by my brain. “I am so sorry. We just came from the movie here in town and this is our house right here and I don’t know what I was doing but I was having trouble focusing trying to explain the movie to them and we had to take the old van because the car was parked behind the new van and I thought you were my husband in the other vehicle and that is why I sped up and did I mention this is our house right here and I don’t even have my license because I always keep my checkbook in the new van but this is the old van....”
He finally interrupted me and said, “Did you know you have a tail light out? That is the only reason I stopped you. I said, ”oh, yes, it broke right before we bought the new van and we haven’t gotten it fixed.“ ”I’ll need you to see your license and insurance card.“ So I sent JImmy to get it.
The end result? A reminder to get the tail light fixed . . . and a story to be recorded in the annals of the Fletchers Christmas history.
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