It Must Be ChristmasIt seems that every trip to the 757 is some sort of bizarre transit odyssey. I left with my friends Harry and Faith yesterday at about 2 pm, only to be broke-down in a solid wall of traffic in Woodbridge an hour later. The steering crapped out. We floated into a truckstop rest are and hung out by the interstate, watching through skinny scrub trees as hordes of revelers crawled past on the highway. Harry borrowed my busted cell phone and called Geico, a tow truck, car rental places, everything he could think of while I babysat Faith. Faith is six and incredibly well-behaved, but when she busted out crying from sheer frustration, I very nearly followed suit.
We spent an hour or two in a repair shop waiting room, where, much to my amazement, Faith had the time of her little life. She absolutely Cookie-Monstered a bag of pretzels and ran laps up and down the repair shop counter, burning off steam by dancing her little fingers along the railing. Everyone in the crowded waiting room was PISSED -- anyone whose car is broken down at night on Christmastime is. The counter guys were overwhelmed and furious, the other people in the waiting room were wanting to shout, I was tired as hell and Harry was hiking up the highway while I watched Faith...we were all pretty frazzled...except for Faith. Her good cheer really made the room come together in this mutual agreement to keep it cool. Because NOBODY, and I mean NOBODY wants to lose their temper and make a little girl with Down's Syndrome cry at Christmas. You definitely have to explain that shit to Santa Claus AND Jesus on Judgement Day.
I am not great with kids, but I tell you what: they are the glue that hold adult society together. How many fights have been avoided and ugly things swallowed in the heat of the moment, just because some little people were around?
We made it to Burger King and the three of us were ecstatic. Faith was so stoked she couldn't even eat, and I hoovered my Big Mac through a giant grin. Harry got her to eat through the age-old "I take a bite, you take a bite" trick, then grabbed her cup and headed for the coffee machine. I slipped a bit and said "Man, if you give that little girl a cup of coffee before we get back on the highway, I am going to punch you in the grill and steal the keys." He laughed...he'd just grabbed her cup by mistake.
We are all home and safe, the three of us. After a little drama, life is okay.
Here are some pictures of my current desk display. The theme was meant to be "Christmas Comes to the Plastic Psychedelic Jungle," but it's a bit more "Upside - Down Toy Chest" in reality. Hahwell. Merry Christmas.