THE BEST STORIES ARE IN THE MISTAKES

Apologies for the run-on sentences but sometimes the best stories are in the mistakes.

I married a guy who has a dad who never sweated the small stuff. When his dad found the Ford Bronco wedged in the drywall he asked him to hang a tennis ball from the ceiling to eyeball when to put the car in park.

He was just grateful he was okay. It was just drywall.

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THE BEST STORIES ARE IN THE MISTAKES

My sister explained the dent in the roof of her Honda Prelude was caused by an aggressive raccoon.

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 child (like me).

If I had parked my car into the garage drywall, I was staring at a three-month house arrest and daily mass.

Or, maybe I needed to tell a better story- a story that would outlive the coverup.

A story that that my dad could only raise an eyebrow and smile.

THE BETTER STORIES

Over the years, my husband and I heard a few good stories:

• How our youngest son fell into an infinity hot tub with his phone in his pocket.
• 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.

Over time, my husband taught me how to laugh.

My husband taught me how to laugh at everyday mistakes. 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 where leisurewear is 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.

My goal is to get to 100 subscribers!

Oh, my husband had a few expletives on that pre-dawn morning when he heard metal scraping metal 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 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 mispelled. I did not notice her school was spelled Jesuit with a G.

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 some of our mistakes.

I would love it if you shared your mistakes in the comments.

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