A lot of the time, I really think that God is kind of screwing with me…

Not in a mean way.

But in a…

“Moses, I’m serious… get over here..

This is going to be good.”

Kind of a way.

 

Such as:

 

This week I went to Target

 

Not really blog worthy except…

 

It was a quick trip (which means anything under an hour)

 

Because I had to drop off the target haul and get to the school to make our doctor’s appt.

 

 

So we have about about 14 bags

And one Kelly.

I am sweating and it is about 49 degrees.

But there are in, frozen items put up, we are good.

 

Hopping in the car…

GRRRRBOINK

Ooops!

Uh Oh! What? Was that?

Please God tell I did not just splat a squirrel…

Or a bird…

Or anything mobile.

 

I shall check.

In park.

 

I see that it is in fact not a squirrel… but bag number 14 of groceries

 

The most critical one because it contains my orange juice

(Simply Orange the best…

Like me and Tina)

If I don’t have this in the morning, I don’t function

Not even a little bit.

 

And Huggies?

The largest box Target carries is now dead center beneath my car.

And also the largest bag of Target wipes?

Shredded and strewn across my driveway.

 

What to do?

I know!

 

I will drive forward and dislodge the diapers.

Yes that will work…

 

GRRRRR…  BOINK….. BOINK…

GRRRRRRRRRRRRR    GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR   BOINKKKKKKK

 

That is not a good sound.

I check again.

 

Still the huggies are trapped.

 

I will try again…

And again…

And again.

Because nothing jams diapers in to the underbelly of the car like going back and forth over them four times.

 

So I must try another method.

Like lying on the ground and using the rake.

All the while thinking that I should have put on the emergency brake

Or maybe even turned off the car.

The rake is too flimsy.

The shovel too short.

But the street broom just right.

 

FREEDOM!!

 

And you know…  I do live across the street from a church.

I mean right across the street.

I can hit the side of it with a rock.

And I a prissy girl with a sissy throw.

And church people are supposed to be nice right?

And would you not think if you live across from a church, that someone leaving the church would help you?

In a situation such as this.

Maybe offer a hand…

or a tissue to wipe the soot off your face…

at least a little Peace Be With You.

 

Instead I see this older man laughing uncontrollably

I mean he turned his back… but

I could see he was shaking…

From the waist up…

Like an involuntary convulsion.

 

Duly noted!

When he gets his Depends stuck under his Buick

I’m not helping him

Either.

SO THERE!