Posted in Brothers, Sisters

Unlucky

I have made a resolution today, May 29, 2009.

I will not leave my house for any reason at any time unless someone else is either with me or driving me.

Why?

I am unlucky.  Very unlucky.

I may excel at some things and at others be marginally successful, but I am not lucky.  Take for instance my outing today, which resulted in a rash vow which I will most likely find impossible to keep.  Tomorrow is the Soap Box Derby in Waynesboro.  Brytleigh will be participating for the first time and Kyleigh for the fourth.  Requirements dictate that all participants wear ballet slippers.  Having never competed before in the event, Brytleigh did not have the necessary footwear.  A small window of opportunity presented itself.  Being the at-times-impulsive person that I am, I jumped through said window.  I volunteered to take Brytleigh to Payless  to acquire the shoes and in the same venture, purchase the materials necessary for the making of dishbags.  (Dishbags are a necessary item for all participants in a Teen Missions Team as specified in my previous post T.M.I.)

Hindsight is 20-20.  This is because our rear ends are so big that they are easy to see.  This is also because looking back always reveals us for the asses that we most definitely often are.  That is another story for another day.  Back to my lack of luck…  It is clear now that going to JoAnn’s with a very creative and opinionated 8-year-old was not the wisest choice, seeing that a timeframe was also a part of the equation.  Dylan & Katie, in the awkward transition from Junior High to the even more awkward High School, had been invited to their first-ever non-birthday party.  I am getting oh-so-sidetracked…  Oh, yes!  The party necessitated the van being home by 4:20 pm, to be precise, to transport the eager-yet-nerdy tweens to their decidedly painful social gathering.  The clock was counting down.  I was attempting to race it.  The following things occurred, hampering my progress:

  • I had only 1 1/2 hours in which to complete my dual-pointed quest.
  • The girl at Payless was less than brilliant.
  • Brytleigh insisted on sitting on the floor at Payless with the ballet shoes on, driving an ‘air derby car’ and applying the ‘air brakes’ to ensure that the shoes were a perfect fit.
  • Brytleigh has a shorter stride and a much shorter attention span than I have and noticed every snack machine from here to kingdom come.
  • JoAnn’s is full of beautiful, diverse, eye-capturing, mind-blowing, and intriguing fabrics of every hue and texture.
  • The line was long at the cutting counter.
  • There were only 2 employees present, 1 of whom promptly disappeared, leaving the poor Indian lady with the heavy accent to manage both the cutting counter and the register.
  • It took her forever to notice that the first lady had high-tailed it out of there.

Finally, we made it out of fabric heaven.  At 4:15, we headed home.  Our tentative relief soon expired as the traffic slowed to a near halt.  People do no, repeat, do not know how to drive around here.  They know even less of how to drive in the rain.  What should have been a touch of the beginnings of rush hour was a night mare. We went from fabric heaven to rainy Charlottesville hell.  Pardon my French.

“Boy, the person at the front of the line sure is lucky!  At least we’re not at the end of it, right, Phebe?”

You’d think.  Except for the fact that when turning from 250 onto the 64 should have allowed me to breathe a deep sigh of relief, I went from the frying pan into the fire.  Having been called on multiple lines by various people from home requesting my status as it related to their ability to leave, i reluctantly phoned Evan to sheepishly inform him that, yes, I was on my way.  Yes, he would be late.  No, you may not decapitate me upon my return home.  And tell Katie and Dylan to stop hyperventilating.  It’s not the end of the world.  I assured him that I was a mere mile from the home exit and that I would be home within minutes.

Drat!  Foiled again!  Our road was also blocked by hordes of idiots, excuse me, lovely, careful citizens, who apparently are allergic to driving through a fine mist of rain.  I pulled into the driveway.  How she reached this conclusion, I cannot figure, but Katie decided that waiting at the end of our 100-yard-long driveway and following me down it, “encouraging” me to hurry would somehow get her to the party sooner.  I tossed Evan the keys on the way in and drew a deep sigh of relief, glad as heck that the adventure was over.  I thereupon made a pact with myself that I would leave the house when, and only when, either someone accompanied me, or I was taking myself on a date with no time constraints.  My pitiful luck is thankfully not powerful enough to keep my accompaniment from their own appointments if I happen to be tagging along.

Katie and Dylan have taken fashionably late to a whole new level.  They must have been the freakin’ celebrities at this tweeny-bopper party of theirs!!

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I rock. I also paper and scissors.

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