I've managed to live in the City parking on the street a year and a half and avoided getting my car towed. I've survived every snow emergency and every stinking leaf removal. But every streak needs to be squashed by a big tow truck.
I was running down the stairs with Abi, the diaper bag, my teaching supplies, and a cassarole dish full of BBQ meatballs bearly on time for my tutoring lesson. ONLY TO FIND...nothing. No car. No happy little Dynasaur waiting for me vroom-vrooming. Then, like in the movies, scenes flashed before my eyes of a sign I'd seen posted the day before: "Remove vehicles from street Tuesday, October 23, 7am - 10pm for leaf removal. HELP KEEP OUR LAKES AND RIVERS CLEAN!" Unfortunately for the lakes and rivers, I opted to forget about the sign and leave my poor Dynasaur on the street for the big street sweeper to gulp up. So instead of spending an extra hour of his "I skipped my classes so I could do my Mid-term projects day" actually working on his Mid-term projects, my husband had to drive me to the impound lot. This meant I had to cancel my tutoring lesson and Jon had to be late for work. Of course I was crying and ashamed. I was feeling totally irresponsible and angry at myself. We were going to have to pay for the towing and the ticket when our budget was already tight. If the roles had been reversed, I would have been furious with Jon, I know I would have. But his reaction was completely full of faith. He told me that it had happened to him a couple times before and that it was an honest mistake. He prayed for God to help us and even cracked a joke about our leaf-removal towing tickets were the city's way of paying for leaf-removal. He didn't even complain about the traffic. I was completely blown away by how he took this in stride and blessed me with his favor. I'm so honored that I'm married to such a man!!
The impound lot is definitely a place I wouldn't want to visit after dark or by myself. There was even a newspaper blowing down a darkened alley with a cat screeching in the shadows (no joke, kinda). We were in good company, however. It seems the leaf-removal caught many a city-dweller offguard including Jon's old Gunny. They do not let babies into the lot, however. Maybe they are afraid of the babies sneaking in a crowbar and peeling out with a stolen car. I guess I could see that. Abi did have a sneaky gleam in her eye. Oh that same sneaky gleam she gave me before she blew out her Sunday dress in the middle of communion. The same sneaky gleam she gave before she raked all our leaves into the street, snubbing her nose to the LAKES AND RIVERS.
Well, I suppose my already tarnished record couldn't stay semi-blemished for long. I always knew I couldn't be an above-average leadfoot. Not with the way I drive. I guess the impound lot taught me to get my head out of the clouds and realize that I am one of the millions in this country that define the term "average motorist."