have you seen me?

the wedding shower

if i had a nickel for every time i've made a complete fool of myself, i would have at least 15 cents by now. my first experience was in the 6th or 7th grade during gym class. one of my buddies did or said something really funny and i wizzed my gym shorts in front of everyone (and not just a trickle either, i'm talking about laughing myself into a painfully embarrassing puddle of pee). the second was during a church youth retreat to mt. eagle. the whole group was eating breakfast together (boys at one table, girls at the other) and, of course, jen was sitting with the popular girls. i, with the nerds. once again, someone said something really funny at the exact same moment i was taking a mouthful of scrambled eggs.. in retrospect, keeping my mouth closed was not the best option, and resulted in blowing egg out both nostrils (to the horror of my very-distant-future wife). it took nothing short of divine intervention for her to even be caught in the same room with me after that little fiasco. the third was over this last weekend. having decided to marry a raccoon, jes threw a wedding shower and invited us to bring cake and presents. about 15 minutes before shower time, we were still in a mad dash to put finishing touches on gifts and desserts, get kids dressed, and load everything into the cars.

well, being the incarnation of servitude that i am, i humbly volunteered to heave most (if not all) the boxes and crates of party favors barefoot, through sharp gravels, to the awaiting vehicles. and, in my haste, while unloading these burly armloads of festive trinkets, some evil northern clap of wind slammed against the defective trunk of jodi's rental car, trapping the only key within its fortified bowel. basically, i locked the only key in the trunk and realized my small life was about to be snuffed out.

as i dragged myself back the house, i considered the severity of my predicament and began mentally flipping through a score of ways to divert the scorn and shame i knew awaited. Option #1: i could blame the whole thing on one of the kids. and then look shocked and disgusted as the befuddled youngster tried to plead his/her innocents. or, Option #2: i could solemnly announce that i had recently contracted Yuppie Disease, and then mention, as an afterthought, the less important missing key thing. (somehow i knew one of my cousins wouldn't buy this poor excuse due to personal past experience with this ego threatening illness). or, Option #3: i could call the rental car company and have them sneak another key to me before anyone suspected. But after 10 minutes on the phone, i concluded that these idiots (unlike myself) didn't have the ability to compensate for stupidity at a moments notice. so, with no better option, i was inclined to face the music.

first, i told aunt jeanie (who was arranging things in her van), she smiled and mumbled something optimistic; but i knew she was really just distancing herself from the hail of fiery indignation that was about to be unleashed upon my poor person. as i entered the house, the level of hustle had grown to a blur. kids were being thrown into shoes, last second decorations were being tossed together, and the final checklist was being run down (get my camera, don't forget the name tags, someone grab grandma, etc..).

i recall jodi's expression when i shared my news. she really didn't say anything for a second; but in that moments glance, her countenance said it all. "lance, i realize you regard yourself as some witty, funny guy; but given our current circumstances, it's probably not the best time to attempt humor. now go start my car." luckily for me, shae stepped in and saved my hind parts by producing some carjacking tools from his garage with which we were able to jimmy up one of the locks. the day was saved, we all somehow made it to the party with more than a few seconds to spare, and i managed my way back into the family's good graces. of course, with a wedding looming around the corner, chances are good that i will be given yet another shot to pad my metaphorical piggybank.... albeit, one nickel at a time.