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Wednesday, March 31, 2010

My poor truck

So ... this is going to surprise everyone: we own a lot of cars.  We have the big 15 passenger van (currently laid up until I can replace the serpentine belt) named "Bertha".  We have the minivan, which is "blue" or "periwinkle" or just "the van".  We have the Mercury Mystique which is "Misty".  We have the 91 Ranger named "Strider".  And then there's my truck -- the 89 F250 affectionately known as "Fugly" ... yeah ...

So: we just bought a new Washer and Dryer.  We decided to give the old washer to Kimberlee.  When we were cleaning for my cousin's visit I asked Adam to deliver the washer.  He got Ethan to help.  They put the washer on our appliance dolly and loaded it into Fugly and away they went.

It would have been cheaper if I had bought Kimberlee a new washer, had it delivered, and had this one hauled away.

You see ... they didn't take it off the dolly ... they just laid it on it's back and left it in the truck bed to roll around.  Somewhere between our house and Kimberlee's they stopped at a red light.  The washer rolled to the front of the truck bed and slammed into the wall (no biggie ... Fugly is named that for a reason).  But, when Adam put his foot on the gas, it also rolled all the way back.  And the upper corner of the washer caught the back window in my canopy and shattered it.

When my kids were little, their bio-dad used to get really angry when things were broken, and I swore to them and to myself that things were things and family was family and I would never take out my frustration over broken things on my family.

I struggled with that Friday night ... and Saturday morning, when we took the canopy off and hung it from the awning on the side yard, where it will stay until I have money for a window (umm...all my spare $$ is wrapped up in the washer at the moment).

I especially struggled when Ethan told me that it wasn't the first time it had rolled like that.  The first time, the window had not been latched properly, so the washer hit it and simply popped the window open!  Did they figure it out?  NO!  Did they brace the washer before doing it again?  NO!  Ethan could have ridden in the back of the truck (legalities aside) and kept it from rolling around ... but NO!

When the window popped open, they stopped the truck, got out, and made sure it was latched!  Then they went on their merry, oblivious way.

The "hit" that shattered my window was the second hit.

I'm mostly over it now.  I'm still frustrated.  I'm still repeating ... things are things and family is family ...

If I can convince myself, we may yet all survive this.

        aka: goofdad

4 comments:

Adrienne said...

the old saying goes no good deed goes unpunished =(

Eric said...

Being the father of a teenager.. I have just come to realize that common sense is not taught in school..

S. K. said...

I aagree with Emily, but you already know that.
Eric: I taught middle school for 15 years...the piece they lack is metacognition. You CAN'T teach common sense. Good judgement comes from experience, which comes from bad judgement. I'm just sayin'.

jennifer said...

As my mother used to say, teenagers don't have the sense God gave a goose. Your story is the perfect illustration. SK's point is well taken, the cerebral cortex is not finished developing until sometime in the mid-20s. My boys get offended when they feel I'm over-explaining stuff but your tale illustrates the dangers of the opposite approach! Good for you for keeping your temper.