My wife called me this evening to see if I was going to pick up the kids from school. I told her that I was just leaving the storage facility and couldn’t make it in time so she went to get them.
When I got home, I waited for her to return with my two younguns so they could help me unload the boxes from the truck.
And I waited…and I waited!
I figured that my son was probably late getting out of wrestling practice and decided to unload the truck myself. As I took the last box into the apartment, I remembered that I had left my cell phone on the front seat of the truck after my conversation with my wife.
I picked it up and saw 16 missed calls! At that very moment, my youngest daughter, Cakes, called.
“Dad, the battery died on the truck. A man tried to jump start it and couldn’t. We’ve been trying to reach you for the past 40 minutes.”
“How did the battery die?”
“Mom left the lights on.”
“*&*%$##@!”
I got into our old F-150, Wild Bill, and headed to the school.
I wanted to be mad. I really, really did. My brain started working on the most pointed, sarcastic comment possible.
However, as I drove to the school, it began to dawn on me that it would probably bless my wife if I was nice to her; if I was understanding…helpful even.
But that feels so…WIMPY!
Then a bad memory from the past floated to the surface of my mind. I didn’t want to remember it but before I could stop it, there it was…
I had done the same thing just a few weeks earlier.
I was cornered. And I did it to myself!
Then, it got even worse! The parking lot was full! Everyone in Overland Park was there to witness me jump starting my nice truck with my old, beat up truck. Uuuggh!
As I drove over the speed bump in the school’s driveway without slowing down, a transformation occurred…
Suddenly, I was a cowboy back in the days of the Wild West off to help a lady in distress and Wild Bill was my faithful steed!
The school driveway is a one way road. I drove in, did a U-turn in the parking lot and headed back toward our truck.
I ignored the cop flashing his lights at me because I was driving the wrong way, hooked up the jumper cables, revved Wild Bill’s engine for about a minute, told the “little lady” to start her truck, hopped out, unhooked the cables, slammed both hoods shut, hopped back into Wild Bill, backed down the driveway, did a reverse U-turn and headed off into the sunset!
When we got home, my daughter said, “But Dad, three other people tried to help us jump start the car and couldn’t get it to start. How did you get it to work?”
I replied, “You didn’t have the right man!” as I blew the smoke off of the end of my revolver, spun it on my finger and shoved it back into its holster.
