Not too long ago, my wife was inspired to repot some houseplants, which were in need of some TLC. My mom was in town for a visit and was inspired to assist my wife in her inspiration. I have learned that my wife’s inspiration generally leads to my perspiration. However, this time my required “perspiration” was minimal. My wife and mother were committed to this project. And they did it all!
All that was required of my son and me was to carry out the newly purchased pots and potting soil. That is minimal perspiration!
Now if you are waiting for a story about how I dropped a pot or made a mess, I apologize in advance. That did not happen…this time. My “pot dropping, mess making” stories will have to wait for another day.
However, something funny did happen when my son and I were putting the pots in the van.
As we loaded the pots and closed the back hatch of the van, a beautiful red sports car flew into the parking lot. The driver brought the car to an abrupt stop and stepped out. She was a strawberry blonde with oversized sunglasses and an heir of superiority in her walk.
She took a few steps before shooting us a glance over the top of her glasses as she whirled her right arm back behind her and gave her automatic lock-button a push. The car chirped. She looked back hitting the button once more. The car chirped again. The car was locked. She flipped her hair up in the air as she bounced off making sure we understood she was a superior being with a really nice car. Her stare told us to leave her car alone.
My son and I looked at her, looked at the car, and then looked at each other as we burst out laughing.
The car was a brand new, beautiful, bright red Mustang. That was most assuredly locked.
Did I mention the car was a convertible…and the top was down?
I have nothing profound to say about that, but I do have a thought…
I find it funny when we as humans seek to find our importance by what we possess. Please… don’t get me wrong, l like a nice sports car. However, what I like more is a good laugh with my son. So, I would like to say “Thank You” to the Mustang-Convertible-driving, strawberry blonde with big rim sunglasses that provided my son and I a laugh. If you happen to be reading this, I apologize. Because I just could not resist going over and turning up the volume knob on your radio. Yeah, sorry… that was me.
Unwritten 