Dear Journal,
We put on our coats and left the house together
for an impromptu date. Once in the
garage, my wife Carrie hopped in the passenger seat of our truck and I, as Captain of
the ship, took the keys out of my front pocket and prepared to sail our love boat,
the red truck, out to sea. Tonight, we
were going to the store for groceries. It
was going to be great.
HONK! HONK! HONK!
HONK! Whoa. What was that obnoxious
noise? It all happened so fast. My daydreaming of strolling hand in hand with
Carrie toward a box of Strawberry Pop Tarts was abruptly interrupted with ... HONK! HONK!
HONK! HONK! It was our car alarm signaling to all who
would hear, “Help! Police! Over here!
Arrest the man who’s stealing this car” in the only way it knew how. HONK!
HONK! HONK! HONK! “Hurry,
before that slightly overweight, middle aged guy gets away.”
HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! To silence it, I put the keys in the ignition and started the car. HONK! HONK!
HONK! HONK! What?
The alarm was still belching out warnings to our neighbors and the entire
state of Washington that a crime was taking place. Carrie began blaring instructions
into my right ear when she could get a word in … “TURN” HONK! “IT” HONK! “OFF” HONK!
I was pushing and pulling any button or lever I could find …
wipers, bun warmer, ejection seat to any Hawaiian Island where the only sound
would be waves crashing against the warm, white sand. Nothing was working. HONK!
HONK! HONK! HONK!
Again I heard the tender, familiar voice of my wife, “TURN” HONK! “IT” HONK! “OFF” HONK!
I was beginning to give up hope. I could not figure out how to turn off the car
alarm. I was under intense pressure and
the sound of a repeating HONK was not helping. I closed my eyes then heard, “IT’S” HONK! “THE” HONK! “OTHER” HONK “CAR”.
My eyes opened wide and I looked to my left at our other car
parked in the garage. Its headlights and
taillights were flashing as if trying to tell me something. (What is it Lassie? Has Timmy fallen in the well?) About ten seconds later, I fixed it. And there was blessed silence ... well, except for that constant ringing now stuck in my ears. It'd be 24 hours before that would shut off. I was just grateful my ears showed no sign of bleeding. So there's that.
I breathed a sigh of relief. The embarrassing nightmare was over. And nobody would know of my un-smartness. Not the neighbors. Not the state of Washington. Not nobody. Just this somewhat confidential journal entry. Oh, and my wife ... who told our kids, her parents, 30 of her closest friends, and the gal at the checkout counter. Which is far fewer than the entire state of Washington.
