Today after chuch, after amazingly convincing and coaxing my childen to get into the van, despite the piles of snow that they were positively yearning to jump into – church clothes and shoes and all – I managed to wrangle Eli into his seat. I went to the other side and put Justus in his seat. I was waiting for Callie Grace to get the message and hop in, which she is normally good to do. In her great desire to please her mamma, she thought she could be helpful by shutting the automatic door. While my head was still on the inside of the van. Did anyone else assume that the door stops if it senses an object in it’s way?
It does not.
So there I found myself, absolutely squashed in between the door and the side of the van, the door pinning my head with an impressive and wild force, while I’m calmly trying to get Callie to hit the button to let me loose. Calmly. Quietly. After all, I am in the chuch parking lot.
This is exactly where my neurosis sets in. In the middle of the sharp pain, it occurred to me how funny and how utterly ridiculous I looked, pinned in my van, unable to get my head free. So then I started laughing, which, on the pain scale, was not beneficial, but on the mental health scale, was awesome. At the same time, Justus, who is totally unaware of his momma’s current trauma, is discussing the merits of his three different vacuum cleaners at home, quite earnesly.
I finally get Callie Grace’s attention away from the lovely diamonds the sun leaves in the snow enough to get her to open up the door.
For some reason, I have been laughing about this all day. And it’s not from lack of pain, my head is still killing me. Partly it comes from wanting to so much to always look like I’ve got it together (although anyone who saw Justus’ hair today would know that indeed, I do not!). Sometimes these painfully embarassing moments are exactly what God sends me to lighten me up, to help me see the joy in the ridiculous, unexpected, unforgetable moments.
I’m beyond certain that that there are more serious theological lessons to be taken from this, but at 10:30pm, while still at work, they elude me. I’m happy enough with the sweet knowledge he so hilariously imparted to me today. 🙂
OMGosh, that totally happened to me one day while putting Bekah in the back of our van. Somehow the switch was triggered and the inside of my body was on the inside and my feet and legs were (at this point as the door was shutting) danging on the outside. It was crazy, slightly painful, and overall hysterical if you were watching from afar. I couldn’t help but think to myselfm “Way to go, Lisa. You are going to be stuck this way until H.T. gets home.” Thanks goodness I was able to rangle myself out of the position to get my feet back on the ground and release the button within a few minutes but utterly terrified of the thought of being stuck that way.