Indy and I wanted to get the heck out of there because a couple had been fighting with their windows down in the car next to us. "You are the WORST decision of my life," the woman said to the man sitting in the driver's seat. Indy and I had quickly loaded our groceries into the car because it WAS awkward. I didn't mean to look over, but an elementary-age child sat in the backseat of the other vehicle, listening to the woman who continued yelling at the man. "You did it again! After you promised you'd lose weight; I caught you drinking an f-ing soda. You did not look like this when I married you."
I have a temper, and I wanted to go right up to her window and say, "All right, Amber Heard." But I didn't. (Plus, I think both Johnny and Amber are a mess.) Despite THAT drama, the poor man in the car just sat silently, red-faced as his wife continued berating him.
"Hurry, Mama," Indiana said as we shared a look that meant, "That woman is crazy--soda IS awesome!"
But when I turned the key in the ignition, the car tha-whumped, sounding like a helicopter taking off. The man in the car next to us just looked over as we sat there. I didn't know what to say. He realized we'd heard the whole d*mn thing. And the lady finally darted into the store as her husband waited with the devasted little boy. I wondered what that high heeled woman would get--it obviously wasn't soda. And I wished I had the words for that man and the kid. But, I came up lacking.
So instead, I took action with my own problems. "Mike, something's wrong with the car," I told him over the phone. "Can you come pick us up?"
He arrived shortly after. "It's something with the heater," he said. And after we got the car home, Mike turned a bit sad, "I'm so sorry everything keeps breaking down. And we're already going through so much."
"Are you kidding? Cancer has taught me to be extra grateful for people. Who cares about the car. We'll figure it out. Plus, I'm just so thankful you're nice to me and the kids. And that we all love each other. And...I always want to be so nice to you."
So, Mike took the car apart yesterday. It had started to smell really bad, and it turns out that while Indy and I shopped, a mouse got up in the car--and when I turned it on, the mouse took its last breath.
Mike brought the little carcass in. Blood streaked several car parts, and its tiny paws were bent at terribly unnatural angles.
"OH, my gosh," I wailed. "I. Killed It. The tha-whumping was its body!" I sobbed. And sobbed. AND sobbed.
Animals love me and Indy. "This poor mouse must've ran from his cushy home in the bread section at the grocery store, out into the parking lot, and into the carriage of the car." My breathing faltered. "I lured it--to," my voice dropped an octave, "its death!!!"
Mike snorted. "If that's true, we are never shopping in that bread section again." His eyes widened. "You're really shook up over this? Is it...all about the mouse? Or death? Or what?"
"It's just that...that I killed the poor thing. And to add insult to injury, the last thing he heard was that woman yelling at her husband over soda. Talk about a terrible death! It could've been any one of us who died. Imagine if it would've been someone in that car. Would that woman have felt bad those were her final words? People need to think before they speak."
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and obviously tried to keep from laughing. "Let's just be glad that if anyone had to die, it was the mouse."
I sniffled. "I guess that's looking at the glass half full. But, Mike! What if he had a little family?! They probably thought he got abducted."
Mike thinks I'm incredibly silly, but life is life. I still feel terrible about the mouse, but I guess it's nice that the car doesn't wreak anymore. C'est la vie!
No comments:
Post a Comment