Yesterday, morning, I had to run an errand. I rarely drive anymore because Richard says my driving scares him. I have no idea why. I had to do some maneuvering to back out of the driveway because Frank was parked behind the truck. I pulled forward, back, forward, back again, etc. I finally got it straightened out but I came out of the driveway a bit too straight and our road isn’t very wide. I kept my eye on the neighbors’ cars and I backed up between both of them. I was feeling pretty proud of myself until I felt and heard a thump. I thought, “Huh, I didn’t know the curb was so high on that side!”

I pulled forward, and looked back to check out that mountain-sized curb. It wasn’t the curb. The neighbor’s mailbox was now leaning at a 45-degree angle. So, I pulled over, and jumped out of the truck. If I could only bend the posted back upright again, I’d be in the clear.

I walked to the mailbox, grabbed it with both my arms, and pushed with all my might. The bent pole did not budge. Rather, the entire mailbox broke off the pole into my arms, and turned over sideways, and all the mail – a ton of it, I might add – fell out…into a puddle. I muttered an expletive, leaned down, and grabbed the mail as quickly as I could. Then, quite red-faced by now, with the mail in one hand and the entire mailbox tucked under my other arm, I steeled myself, and walked to the neighbor’s door.

Out of the blue, I heard hilarious laughter, and turned to my right. The other neighbor had seen the entire spectacle. Turns out she is watching that neighbor’s house. They’re out of town until Thursday (which explains why their mailbox was almost full!). I asked her to let them know that I owe them a new mailbox and that it wasn’t a hit and run. She was still laughing uproariously. She offered to take the mail. I walked back to the pole, carrying the mailbox, and didn’t know quite what to do with it. I mean, they couldn’t get any mail with it like that. I laid the mailbox on the grass, next to the pole, whipped out my phone, and called our neighbor, Harold, who can make or fix anything. After I told him what happened, he nearly wet himself laughing at me, and then promised to do what he could.

I then went to my appointment. While I was on my way, I was fiddling with the air conditioner button because the fan wasn’t blowing high enough. I kept turning it and nothing was happening. I turned my attention back to the road when the light turned green again. When I turned into the parking lot, the truck made a funny sound and it didn’t want to turn all the way. When I turned again, it made that sound again. I parked, called Richard, and told him I might be getting a flat tire. I asked him to meet me there after my appointment. He did (my knight in shining armor) and he wasn’t too happy (about the mailbox, nor about the truck problem). We looked under the truck to see if part of the mailbox was stuck down there. Nope. Kicked all the tires. None of them were low. I said, “Well, get in and drive it across the parking lot. See what you think.”

Richard got in and, just as he was about to turn the key, he said, “Why is the four-wheel-drive turned on?”

I said, “Oh, that’s not the air conditioner knob???” I smiled innocently, and batted my eyelashes for good measure. Like I said, I rarely drive anymore.

When I returned home the mailbox was back up, and appeared to be in operating order…but still leaning at a dangerous angle. So, I will still need to buy the neighbors a new box and a pole, and will need to have it installed. But, at least they can get mail until they get home later this week.

Richard and I have our weekly date tonight. He’s making me drive. He says I’m clearly out of practice. I told him he better buckle up tight!

This week’s Masonism:

I think Mason’s been watching too much late-night TV on his summer break because he said, “Why do most vampires have British voices?”

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