Don't tell anybody . . . that's what I have always called "a woman thang."
I have rescued many damsels in distress over the years. Those who had too many things in their arms and too much on their mind . . . and let the door shut and lock behind them. I have swooped in with an air of male (and more particularly ME) superiority. Coat-hangered the locks or delivered their extra set of car keys.
They have all been grateful, but I still chided them for being so careless . . . so female.
But, as you probably know . . . payback is . . . well, you know what it is . . . and so, yesterday I pulled up at the church, I remember getting out of the car, opening the rear door to get my exercise duds out of the back seat, and . . . . . .
The next conscious thought I had I was standing next to the car, both doors were shut . . . and the engine was running.
The car is a gracious, temporary loan from my Mom . . . and I appreciate her letting me use here vehicle until she gets a little more steady on her feet (or in her seat). I'm also gratefull that she has an extra set of keys . . . and grateful to my little brother for rescuing me from my delima (though he DID seem to be a little snooty in the performance of his brotherly duty).
Someone may ask me today . . . "Well, do you feel a little humble and contrite?"
No . . . just a little more in touch with my feminine side . . . just a little more girly . . . and a little less manly. And a little older, and more senile.
This will NEVER happen again.
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