Guardian Angel of Idiots, Patron Saint of Fools

 

Heaven must have a soft spot for stupidity, or so it would seem considering how things turned out Friday night.   Our plan had been simple--go to Disney’s Not-So-Scary Halloween party, just Scarlett and me, and celebrate her turning nine!  Our plan did not involve getting stuck in mud on the side of the road, but somehow I found the time to work that in.  It happened so quickly.  One second we were on our way to the happiest place on earth, and the next our wheels were spinning, burying us deeper in the spongy earth. 

It was all my fault, completely my fault.  Ignoring a well-painted double yellow line, I attempted to turn around on a stretch of road not wide enough for such a maneuver, particularly in my diesel Excursion. Fresh tire marks were telling me I was in good company.  Others had gotten lost and turned around at that point, and so though Jiminy Cricket was on my shoulder suggesting I find a better--not to mention legally permitted--place to turn around, I brushed him off and did so anyway.  Pumped on birthday adrenaline, I told myself I was justified.  We were cutting it close.  The park would only be open for a measly five hours and we wanted to have plenty of time to ride all the rides, except for It’s A Small World (Scarlett is opposed to world peace, if it has to involve the same song over and over.)  Besides, I always obeyed the rules of a standardized road system, so surely it’d be okay if just this once I fudged.  It was such a small oversight, practically like deciding not to floss before going to bed.  You know you’ll always do it, but just this once you’re going to make an exception.  The trouble about exceptions is that when your car starts to fish tail and not gain the ground you need it to toward a paved road, though your first impulse is to pray, you wonder if Heaven is rolling their eyes.

Nothing scares a soldier more than evidence of fear in its leaders. My little soldier in the backseat had plenty of reason to be afraid.  Her leader was freaking out.  Oh no!  Oh no! I cried, followed by a plea for Heavenly help—help that I was certain wouldn’t come, not for a rule breaker like myself.  I had crossed the double yellow line.  I had done something dumb, and was therefore undeserving.  Crushing guilt pressed in on me as I considered what this would mean for Scarlett’s birthday celebration.  Certainly everything was ruined.  We would traipse into the Magic Kingdom, if we traipsed in at all, near closing time, having spent the bulk of our night dealing with trying to get a tow truck.  Our prospects seemed grim, and then we saw Joey.

Before I could get out my car and assess the situation, Joey was there.  Having witnessed my stroke of genius, he pulled over to help us.  He could have said to himself that I deserved to be stuck after such a move and kept on going, but he didn’t.  As I called AAA and Rich to deal with my mess, Joey drove us to Magic Kingdom, and thanks to his speedy assistance we were only twenty minutes behind schedule. I didn’t get Joey’s last name, I was so rattled it took a few tries before I could remember his first, but I will never forget his kindness that he freely bestowed on one so undeserving as myself.  Joey, the nice guy who works in a bike shop in Orlando, he doesn’t wear tights and a cape (thank heavens), but he was our hero.

The night, however, of the Orlando Good Guys was just getting started.  Shortly after Rich arrived to wait for the tow truck, a Disney employee named Hector came to our rescue, not only pulling us out of the mud, but arranging for Rich to park the Excursion in the Contemporary Resort parking lot which meant that we didn’t have to wait in line for a bus or the monorail after exiting the park.  After a fun-filled night riding nearly every ride we wanted to, ours was a speedy getaway.  And as Scarlett, snuggled happily against her new stuffed animal, Sven, and fell asleep, I couldn’t help but say a prayer of thanks, for people whose motivation to help is simply that they want to.  My thanks to Joey and Hector.  Not only did you save Scarlett’s birthday night, you taught me how to serve others, even the dumb dumbs.

 

 

 

 

The Very Dead Caterpillar

If you head up American Fork Canyon in Utah, zig and zag, and zig again, you will find yourself at Cascade Springs, a little gem tucked into the Wasatch Mountains where verdant paths meander, merging at certain points with boardwalks that hover so close above the flowing, frothing springs as to overwhelm its visitors with joy.  Such was the case with our little live-wire, Julia.  Mother Nature had smiled approvingly on the scene before her, and it made Julia want to jump.

It was exuberance that Monster drinkers aspire to, elation reserved usually for Powerball winners.  Were she British and a poet she would have penned lines bursting with descriptions of the mountains, the wild flowers, the fish darting in unclouded water, but she was American and still in diapers and so she jumped and jumped and jumped, until she fell in.

This was unexpected, cold and unexpected, and for a moment her exuberance took a tumble. 

But who—even sopping wet—could stay gloomy for long surrounded by such beauty!  Swapping wet toddler clothes for an adult-sized pullover, it wasn’t long before Julia was back in business—jumping, running, rejoicing.  She was pleased by all she saw, tickled pink by its perfection, particularly when while scampering along she noticed a caterpillar.

Fat as her father’s index finger, the caterpillar had inched his way to the center of the path, making it easy for a nature lover, such as our girl, to notice.  Julia’s jumping stopped. 

This was something to inspect!

She leaned toward the caterpillar, noticing the spectrum of colors arrayed in its fuzzy, tube-like body—deep red and yellow, a hint of neon green, a splash of indigo.  It shimmered as it inched, glistened as it wriggled.  The Electric Light Parade at Disney was dull by comparison.

This was something to admire!

Others came to see what this astute little observer had discovered, and soon a circle comprised of old and young surrounded the caterpillar.  A hum of oohs and awes filled the air.  This was a thing of wonder, a sight to behold, a masterful creation, the answer to all of life’s mysteries!

No, thought Julia, this was something to step on.

And so she did.

Stomp went her little shoe, splat went the caterpillar, and somberly silent the oohs and awes.  The ensuing funeral was short and sweet.  Julia’s giggles were the requiem, and she paid her last respects by stomping once more.  For who could stay gloomy when surrounded by such beauty!  Not our girl!  And so off she went, jumping, giggling, and running, to observe (and possibly destroy) the many wonders to be found at Cascade Springs.