I'm a girl. I was raised for many years with my only biological sibling, also a girl (we have more "steps" than the Library of Congress, but that is a subject for another day), by our divorced mother. So I'm a GIRL. I bleed estrogen. There's very little that goes wrong in my world that a pecicure won't at least help, if not cure entirely. Mom and I had our toes done, in fact, TWICE last week.
Mr. Clem, of necessity, is not a girl. Which is mostly fine with me, because he's tall (can reach the stuff on top of the fridge), strong (pickle jar, anyone?), and oh-so-deliciously cute. Oh, and he likes me. A really, really lot. Naturally, we do many things very differently. That makes for an interesting life, and I am in NO WAY complaining.
So, yesterday I was reminded of a story from a couple of summers ago.
::When you're watching this scene in my movie, "Clemntine's Chronicles, The Movie in 3-D", I'll fade out in that wiggly, heat-wavy way::
We had just bought our new old Suburban a few weeks before. On Sunday of Labor Day Weekend, we drove to a nearby lake to swim and picnic. We hadn't been to this lake before, so we didn't know when we drove up the driveway to the marina, which was lined with cars on both sides (read: I was actually holding my breath to make us skinnier so we would fit through - no mean feat, as I was 7 months pregnant at the time), that it wasn't a circle drive. It dead-ended at the marina. NO PLACE to turn around.
Mr. Clem was going to have to back our new old behemoth down the long, curved, car-lined drive. My job was to pray, suck in my breath and start writing our insurance information on sticky notes to leave on all the cars we were sure to ding, scratch and bump on our way down.
The kids knew enough to be quiet, which, in my opinion, proves the power of the Holy Spirit.
Back. Turn. Ease. Scoot. Turn the other way.
Then, he did it. Oh yes, he did.
Mr. Clem, twisted in his seat so he could see fully out the back window, started making SOUND EFFECTS.
"rrrrrrr! eeeee! whhhhhh, shhhh, rrrrrrr!"
We made it down without incurring any insurance claims, so maybe they helped.
Boys are weird.
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5 comments:
That is hilarious! I'm glad you made it out without a scratch. Maybe we wouldn't like them if they weren't a little weird. ;)
I saw your comment over at BooMamas and had to let you know you are not alone in the "(singular) bandana as a belt" memory. And, since I had a similar corduroy knicker outfit, I am guessing we are quite close in age. Too, too funny. Thanks for the trip (albeit somewhat scary) down memory lane.
Hi! I just found your blog through a comment you left at BooMama and have spent some time exploring around a bit. I have to say that you are very funny and insightful. I have enjoyed myself immensely and plan to stop by often.
Oh, and I am part of a weight loss blog called One Weigh or Another. We have 20 ladies who are participating. Perhaps you would like to pop in sometime and have a look-see.
www.oneweighoranother.com
Soli Deo Gloria!
Hi Sam! I Lady Laura! I'm so happy y'all clicked over! Thanks for stopping by.
Jeepers! That would be,
"HI" to Lady Laura.
Proofreading? What's that? Does it have to do with geometry?
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