There are times when the best thing to help me get over a horrible or embarrassing experience is to attempt comedy in a blog post. Sometimes, it’s a therapeutic balm to my soul. But I’ve been trying, in my head, to write the salvific post I could really use for over 24 hours now, and it just ain’t happening.
First, the good stuff. For Hayley’s 11th birthday, we went to Black Butte in Central Oregon as a family to celebrate and relax, a two night mini-vacation in her honor. With the massive exception of the horrible and embarrassing experience, we had a great time; she said it was her best birthday ever. I took the older two girls skiing yesterday at Hoodoo, and they were awesome! It was only Hayley’s second time, and we went all the way to the top of the mountain and made it down alive every time.
Here are the two openings I brainstormed for the funny, redeeming blog posts that I’m still too melancholy to write:
I’ve knocked over two stop signs in my life with a car. Unfortunately, the second one was yesterday.
Please don’t ask about either one. When I’m sufficiently recovered, I might write about one or both. Here’s the second opening:
If we ever go to ski at Hoodoo again, I don’t think I should drive. I didn’t think I could have a worse car experience than the last time we went there, but rendering your in-laws only vehicle undriveable is definitely worse.
And that’s the most I can manage to write, except to say that everyone is completely uninjured (except for my pride) and we got home safely and the car is being fixed in Sisters, Oregon. I’m going to bed now, wishing I could crawl under a rock and not have to explain this over and over again over the next few weeks. Elaine (who is a saint) tells me that one day we will laugh about this, but I’m not sure I believe her yet.