Note from the editor:
This happened a few weeks ago, and was written up several days ago.  In other words, old news.  Isn’t it fun?

I bet you’re thinking I’m going to relate some embarrassing story about a child throwing a fit.

Well, I’m not.

Nope.  Actually, it was embarrassing, but this one is about me, not my kids.

As much as I’m a little reluctant to ‘fess up, the story is worth writing down so I remember the experience, and if I’m going to write it down, it might as well be here where you can all laugh at with me about it.

Without further ado, here it is.

[warning: I'm giving the long, unedited version.  It's gonna take a while.]

You may or may not have caught that our anniversary happened a few weeks ago.  Seven fabulous years!

Hooray!

Knowing John like I do, I thoughtfully didn’t get him anything, and I made a big deal out of The Painting still being more than enough present for me.  He loves that. 

Best big purchase he’s ever made — he’s off the hook for Christmas, Valentine’s, Birthday, Anniversaries, etc, for about 10 years.  Sure, we’re not as close to paying off the house as we woulda been… but…

I did, however, have a surprise up my sleeve.

I was going to clean out the car for him.  Our car being messy *really* bugs him, and ours at the time was… um, yucky.  Beyond telling, really, and you wouldn’t want to know if I tried.  My hope was to do it the week before our anniversary weekend.

John’s comment: The car was so yucky, when I took some young men in the vehicle for mutual one night, they were afraid to reach down into the seats for the seat belt buckles, and one was even afraid to sit down without a towel under him… I ask you, faithful reader, how yucky must it have been for young men – known for their “yucky” impervious natures – to have been disgusted…

But it didn’t happen that week.

Then my hope was to get it done that day while he finished fixing our fence.

Didn’t happen – we went and made that a family-play-day, which was definitely in keeping with our “it’s our family’s birthday” holiday, but not great for fixing fences or cleaning out cars.

And SO -

I wanted to get it done the week after said anniversary.  Reeeeeeeally wanted to, and that Friday was a great day for doing dirty work.  I made it our “family work” for the morning, and tried to get my little “helpers” in gear.

Very funny.

But at least they enjoy playing in and around the car, and wiping things down.  They’re pretty good at that when they want to be.

I hauled everything out of that thing, segregated it into piles, wondered how half my kids’ wardrobe ended up in the car, and gawked at the carpeting of crumbs and crud layering the floor in there.

EWWWWW.

(it looked worse in person, really.)

This was going to be a super-thorough cleaning.  I detached the big, heavy seats from the floor, even, so I could vacuum underneath them.  Now, maybe some of you do this every time you clean your car out, but I don’t think I had.  Ever.  (Have I said, “ewwww” yet?)

And that last time I cleaned out the car, I didn’t vacuum it well, so it hardly counted.

“Go ahead and plug the vacuum in, Buddy,” and I waited.

And I waited.

Until I heard an, “Uh-oh,” from the four year old who loves plugging things in.

This is what I saw.

Two... no, wait, ONE prong. Blast.

“It wouldn’t go in, Mommy, and then it bwoke.”

(Okay, so he’s really all but lost that cute impediment.  I like to write it, k?)

A simple mistake, I know.   I didn’t get mad, but something happened that caught me off guard.

I felt honest to goodness grief.  Deep, down to my core, gut-wrenching-sob-inducing grief.  I held it back for a minute.  Then tears welled up.  Then I remember thinking, “Aw, heck, let them fall.”  Before long, I was totally indulging myself in a full-blown, bawl-baby-fest.

Over a vacuum.

(See?  Told ya this was embarrassing!)

And I didn’t even have the decency to do it indoors.  Nope.  I was crying like a baby outside, shuttling junk from the car back and forth, not caring or even thinking about who heard me.

When I said I *really* wanted to clean out the car, I wasn’t kidding.  I really really really wanted to, and I wanted to do it right then.  I didn’t want to wait for Josh to come home and fix the broken cord, (I didn’t know at the time if indeed it could be fixed) and the thought of dragging my four kids out to use the vacuums at a car wash place made my eyes glaze over…

Boy, you never know how much an appliance means to you until it dies.  This ancient, second-hand, work-horse of a vac and I have been together 3 years now and evidently there’s a serious bond.

Right.

So, I’m crying like there’s been some great catastrophe, and I’m finally starting to pull it together when… guess what happens?

My neighbor came by.  The one across the street who loves ballroom & country dancing, who used to compete & teach lessons and the like.  The one who now sits outside in his wheelchair when the weather is nice, watching the world drive by.  The one who takes care of his yard – everything from the waist up, anyway – whose grown boys take care of everything else.   I love this neighbor.

He wheels up with a beautiful red rose for me.  He doesn’t say much.  He’s not that kind of person.  Just, “Those seats sure look heavy.”

“Yep, they sure are,” <sniff, smile,> “Thank you so much.  This is beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”

And he wheels away.

Talk about snapping out of it!  Hello! I just got a flower from someone who can’t even walk across the street, whose life’s passion is denied him by lungs that don’t work right, and…

Yeah.

Suddenly a broken vacuum doesn’t seem like such a big deal.

And suddenly I remember that John just the night before bought a wet/dry vac when he was out getting supplies for that broken fence.

DING! DING!  We have a winner!

This was arguably a better job for a wet/dry vac anyway!

So the car got cleaned like I wanted, John got his happy anniversary surprise like I wanted, and I had a very humbling, sweet experience being on the receiving end of a beautiful, random act of kindness.

The End.

Another note from the editor:
The van still looks good.  Don’t hold your breathe, but I may actually stick with the resolve to not drive my family around in a garbage truck.  What a novel idea!

Oh, and John fixed the cord that night.  Whew.