The Night I Failed to Bring in Lightning

CarIt was 11pm and I was exhausted after a long day. I just wanted to collapse into bed and read a little before I fell asleep. As my body was just about to make contact with the mattress, GWE turned to me and said, “You know you need to bring Lightning in, right?” Over the past few weeks, the words “bring Lightning in” have become the bane of my existence.

Since Garrett is the second child, he has inherited most of Justin’s toys. One of those toys is a motorized “Lightning McQueen.” Garrett likes to climb into the driver’s seat, hit the gas, and drive it around the backyard like it’s the Indy 500. However, he knows that at the end of the day – it needs to be somewhere other than sitting in the yard. At 2:30am, the sprinklers come on and we’re trying to keep the car from shorting out. (We hear that water and electricity don’t mix!)

So every afternoon Garrett plays with the car and every evening (after it’s dark) I have to go to the back of the house where there are no lights to try and find Lightning. Then, I have to haul it back up to the porch. The car weighs 48.9 lbs. (I looked it up. Why? Because if I ever throw out my back, I want the doctor to know that I was broken by a 48.9 lb. Lightning Queen!!!)

There I was at 11pm (AGAIN) roaming around the back yard with the lights out looking for Lightning. And I thought I found it…

In the darkness, all I could see was the silhouette of an object. I assumed it was Lightning as I walked over to get it. As I reached down to grab it……..”IT” screeched and ran away. I had gotten close enough to see the white stripe on its back.

SKUNK!!!!!!!!

photo

In the most dignified way possible, I screamed bloody murder like I was a teenage girl in a horror movie. If I remember it correctly, I yelled “HOLYFUCKSHITFUCKSHITFUCKSHITBALLSBALLSBALLS” as I ran across the yard in total darkness.

When I came back into the bedroom, GWE (who was already in bed and under the covers) asked me if I brought Lightning in. I said, “No. Didn’t you hear me scream?” She acknowledged that she HAD heard me scream…but that she didn’t want to get up because she thought I’d be fine.

And with that, I learned “Till death do you part” is not where my vows end. It’s “Till you scream like a little girl while running away from a skunk.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.