There are times when the best thing to help me get over a horrible or embarrassing experience is to attempt comedy in a blog post. Sometimes, it’s a therapeutic balm to my soul. But I’ve been trying, in my head, to write the salvific post I could really use for over 24 hours now, and it just ain’t happening.
First, the good stuff. For Hayley’s 11th birthday, we went to Black Butte in Central Oregon as a family to celebrate and relax, a two night mini-vacation in her honor. With the massive exception of the horrible and embarrassing experience, we had a great time; she said it was her best birthday ever. I took the older two girls skiing yesterday at Hoodoo, and they were awesome! It was only Hayley’s second time, and we went all the way to the top of the mountain and made it down alive every time.
Here are the two openings I brainstormed for the funny, redeeming blog posts that I’m still too melancholy to write:
I’ve knocked over two stop signs in my life with a car. Unfortunately, the second one was yesterday.
Please don’t ask about either one. When I’m sufficiently recovered, I might write about one or both. Here’s the second opening:
If we ever go to ski at Hoodoo again, I don’t think I should drive. I didn’t think I could have a worse car experience than the last time we went there, but rendering your in-laws only vehicle undriveable is definitely worse.
And that’s the most I can manage to write, except to say that everyone is completely uninjured (except for my pride) and we got home safely and the car is being fixed in Sisters, Oregon. I’m going to bed now, wishing I could crawl under a rock and not have to explain this over and over again over the next few weeks. Elaine (who is a saint) tells me that one day we will laugh about this, but I’m not sure I believe her yet.
Oh man—I can’t wait to hear “The Rest of THIS Story”!!
But I will wait and I won’t ask…
(Glad to hear the rest of your get-away was good though!)
Two things:
1. I can’t believe I never read the throw up story. That was hilarious and ridiculous all at the same time.
2. When you’re ready… do tell.
I heard a quote this weekend from Bethany Lee, “if I’m going laugh about this later, why not laugh about it now?” I’ve decided to make this one of my new mottos in life.
Cheers!
Rachelle
Skis are to a car as a car is to __?__.
I don’t intend to make things worse (though that usually doesn’t prevent me from doing just that), but I remember you, years ago, breaking something else of your in-laws while skiing.
Skis.
Not a car. But still a coincidence, and comparatively, not so bad. That was almost two decades ago, so in geological or universal terms, just think of what you’ll break in the near future and think of the car in relation to that.
Oh man, this is painful. It reminds me of the time our van broke down on the way to a Watson family reunion at the beach. We made it back home and borrowed my parent’s brand new Ford Explorer. On the way back to the beach, son #1 got a bloody nose and our compassionate response was “DON’T LET IT GET ON THE NEW CAR SEATS!!!”
I’m with Rachelle, I made a note of the same line and hope to be able to live by it *next time*.
Oh, the joys of being quoted out of context! I just want to defend myself by saying that even though I talked to you about this event and your difficulty in moving past it, I never once shared my well-worn “laugh now” motto. There are times when an event is just too fresh or raw. Also, I find it much easier to laugh at things that happen to me and much harder to release those difficulties that I had any part in creating. I hope the raw edge of this episode heals quickly leaving only the laughter-filled memory you want to keep.