Thursday, January 8, 2009

Luck and Justice

Some people seem to have all the luck. They step in yards of animal feces and walk out smelling of lilacs in springtime.
Take my son for example. Last year he was driving home from work around midnight. His car shaking from the music ricocheting off its walls. Its roar pleading for a new muffler. Three houses before home, blue lights. A state trooper pulled him over. "License and registration."
Now I know what you are thinking. How is this scenario lucky? Well, check it out:
Months before he'd gotten a speeding ticket. We sent in a money order and paid the fine. Well, as the officer was running his name and social security number, the ticket comes up unpaid ...and his license? Suspended. As the officer was relaying his findings to my son, I was on the other end of his cell phone listening. My mouth hit the floor and I struggled off the couch to find my car keys anticipating the 83 mile to my son's rescue. I mean, there was enough duct tape, super glue and coat hangers holding his exhaust system together to keep a grade school art class busy for a month...not to mention the blaring rap music that had become synonymous with the act of driving, no matter what time of day (or night in this case) it was.
What came next was typical for my son: "I can tell you're a good kid. Going to school...working...and I believe you did pay your ticket. Young man, take your car home, park it and square away your ticket. Get that muffler fixed too before you drive this car a mechanic. It would do you well to keep your music turned down too. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, have a good night."
Now do you see what I mean?! Of course I don't wish my son any harm...but why, after stepping in poop, coming out smelling like a floral bouquet, do I have to hear: "Why does everything happen to me?" ....
What in criminey happened to him?! He got to drive his car home, pay day was the next day, his car got fixed and life went on...oh yeah, they also corrected the books about his ticket with no problem the very next day.....
If that had been me...the next words from the officer's mouth would have been: "Ma'am, please get out and step to the back of the car." followed by a *snap* as the metal restraining bracelets were fit tight enough to cut off circulation. A trip to jail, a bail posted, a court date appearance the next morning, an impound fee, and a tow truck bill to bring my car home would have been the beginning of a very long dilemma. Heck, even after they discovered my ticket had been paid, I bet the judge would have issued a fine for faulty equipment and disturbing the peace. Then, if I made the mistake of asking, "Why does everything happen to me?" within ten feet of my son's hearing range...he'd look at me and laugh!
Where's the justice?! lol
Oh wait, let me answer that! One day my son will have children of his'll be his turn to step in poop, ask "Why does everything happen to me?" in front of Junior, only to be answered with, you got it, laughter!
Yeah, now there's justice!

On a separate note, my son did have a car accident last week. He hit some black ice, lost control, drove up a four/five foot snowbank, airborne he took out a fire hydrant when the car landed. He's okay- granted, that morning very shaken up, but thankfully, nothing more. His car? Well, the last estimate was almost 2000 dollars to fix....and all he can say is....."Why does everything happen to me?" .........go figure!


  1. Thanks for stopping by my blog! And I will definitely add you to my blogroll. Some people definitely walk in poop and still smell like lilacs.
    Oh, and if you want to up your readership, check out my blogroll and comment. Most of my friends are really good about visiting yours and commenting back. Keep delurking!!

  2. Thanks DeeMarie! I'll most certainly check out your blogroll and comment. With all the people out here, I really think it should be delurking week! Perhaps I'll delurk as if it is! lol :o)

  3. I would be right there with you w/ cuff in the back of a squad car. But my husband is has those lilac filled moments all the time. Atleas occasionally I get to hand on his coat tails.