| Sunny Side Up Oct 12, 2005 �2005, Kathleen Gibson The stop sign and Sir Galahad I think it was the sudden stop that told me all was not well that day, years ago. Or the neck wrenching jolt. It may have been the awful thud, too. Perhaps all three. Things are a bit fuzzy in retrospect. While reversing from my parking spot at Super Store I'd backed into one of those stop signs with a concrete base. Knocked the thing clear over. If I'd been alone, I may have driven away. I thought about it for the half second it took to straighten out my neck. But my conscience sat in the passenger seat. "Mom," said my young offspring. "You have to pick that thing up. What if someone else drives into it? They could get hurt." "I know. You're right." I said. Sighing, I pulled into another space, got out of the car, and walked over to the downed sign. In case you've never tried this, those things are too heavy for most women to easily lift. As I heaved and grunted, a man came running over. And then there were two of us, grunting and heaving. The man said, "Lousy drivers. They knock these things down regularly." "Hmm, hmm." He's right, I thought miserably. Lousy driver, that's me. He continued, irate. "Don't people look where they're going?" I'd been looking, I thought indignantly - just not well enough. The sign's post, close to my side of the car, had been blocked by the divider between the rear windows. The actual sign stood above the car. I'd slammed into it with my rotating rear end while I had my head turned, looking backwards. Excuses, excuses. I shook my head. "Guess not." He kept going. "I mean, what kind of stupid person knocks a stop sign over?" For the second time in almost as many minutes, I almost dismissed my overworked conscience. "Yeah, it's crazy, isn't it? These things could kill someone on the way down. I thought I'd try to get it up so no one drives over it." I could easily get away with that. He'd never know. But I would. As we heaved the sign back into a standing position, I sighed - again - and held up my index finger. "Uh�.me." Sir Galahad's face took on a peculiar color. He skedaddled back to his vehicle without another word. Tittering, I got back in the car. Amanda, who'd watched it all, sat beaming. "Wasn't it nice of that man to stop?" "Real nice. I'm sure he won't forget it," I managed, then put my head on the steering wheel and laughed till I bawled. Sir, if you're out there somewhere reading this - you left in such a hurry that day I didn't get to thank you. I did appreciate your help - thanks for stopping. And thanks for something else - I hadn't laughed like that for months. Just like the Bible says, it was good medicine. I hope you took some too. Respond Home |
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