THE BEST STORIES ARE IN THE MISTAKES
I married a guy whose dad lives his life never sweating the small stuff.
Years ago, when he found his youngest son’s Ford Bronco wedged in the garage’s drywall, he asked his son to hang a tennis ball from the ceiling to eyeball when to put the car in park.
His dad was just grateful his son he was okay.
It was just drywall.
When I heard this story I was in shock! I would have been grounded for seven consecutive weekends.
It was just drywall.
THE BEST STORIES ARE IN THE MISTAKES
My sister explained the dent in the roof of her our) Honda Prelude was caused by an aggressive raccoon in Boulder.
To this day, my dad talks about the raccoon population in Boulder with a raised eyebrow.
I always thought these forgivable offenses were based on my husband and sister were not the firstborn children (like me).
I had my own car story but until this writing I have not shared it with my parents.
It was one of the rare occasions when I was allowed to drive my dad’s Audi to meet friends in the 7-Eleven parking lot of a retail center that included a dance studio and ample parking.
Somehow, in an attempt to park the car in a parking spot with no cars on either side I was a smidge more aggressive with the gas pedal and the car and its two front tires “jumped” over the cement block in front of the spot. The cement parking blocks act as a “placeholder” to hold the car in park.
My friends witnessed this and their faces looked like I had caused major damage to the undercarriage of the car.
My guys friends approached the car shaking their heads trying to cacluclate (future enginners) how I not only tapped the “placeholder” but drove over it with my front tires.
The back tires were next in line to jump but I placed the car in park to prevent any further damage. Thankfully, They were able to “navigate” the car and the wheels back onto the concrete parking space. All four tires were on the ground before I calculated how many babysitting jobs I would have to accept to fix an oil leak or an unbalanced tire (if there is such a thing). A
After calculating how many hours I would need to babysit (or, worse, be assigned lawn-mowing duty), house arrest, and daily mass, my friends assured me nothing was leaking or dragging under the car. There was no visible evidence of damage.
Two things from this event. It never occurred to me to tell the truth (that would have been instant grounding through high school football season and house arrest.
It never occured to me to embellish the story so my dad could use it with his friends. You know a better story that would outlive the first draft.
A story that my dad could only raise an eyebrow and smile.
Our kids had a few stories like when our youngest son fell into an infinity hot tub with his phone in his pocket. His uncles all called within 24 horus because they suspected the party police were en route.
- How our daughter backed out of the garage and hit my driver’s side door. To minimize the damage, she accelerated her reverse position and took out the rear passenger door.
- I told my husband I always tolder her that sometimes you have to “rip off the bandaid,” And I guess she used that wisdom to put the car in the reverse.
- In her defense either reverse or drive my car door was going to have a permanent crease!
Over time, my husband taught me how to laugh at the everyday mistakes.
Over the years, my husband and I heard a few good stories from our youngest. LIke the time he fell into an infinity hot tub
And it turns out the best stories are not the ones on social media or captured in family photos.
Let’s giggle over our daughter’s decision to cut her younger brother’s hair.
Or, l realized our jammie-loving son grew up at a time when leisurewear was a billion-dollar industry.
Now, those jammies and my memories of those jammies are on this Youtube video.
Shameless plug: please subscribe to my YouTube channel.
Oh, my husband had a few expletives on that pre-dawn morning when he heard metal scraping my car as our daughter continued to back out of the garage.
As her tears began to pool in her blue eyes, her daddy instinctively hugged her and told her it would be okay.
We still joke about how Evan (our youngest) somehow ran into an affinity pool with his phone in his pocket.
His uncles have their theories.
Or when Evan slid the Wayfair vanity top down a flight of stairs, and then this happened on the landing.
Now in college, Evan calls most Sundays to give us a recap of his week.
But what makes me smile more than what he had for dinner or how he did on his accounting exam is when he starts with, “Mom, funny story.”
So to everyone who strives for perfection, take a breath and embrace the story.
I am sure baby Jesus would have loved the story the Nerf bullets in the nativity manger.
And for the moms, aunties, and grandmas remember the messes, the goofs and the misspelled graduation cakes.
The only reason we remember our daughter’s high school graduation cake is her high school name was misspelled.
I did not notice her school, Regis Jesuit, was spelled with a G until I got home with the cake.
We don’t remember who gave the commencement address, but we remember the cake.
In my defense, I have always struggled with G’s and J’s.
Thank you for stopping by today to read the best stories about mistakes and perseverance.
I would love it if you shared your mistakes in the comments.
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