Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Parking Lot Cookie Disaster

It has been a whirlwind of a weekend and there is still a lot to do. As the Holiday Season embiggens, our attempts to remain cromulent towards it grow more difficult. And yet we continue to try all the more, because to not strive in the face of holiday difficulties is . . . well, what is it exactly? Cowardly? Humbuggish? Secular?

I guess I don't know what I should be doing. I can only relate what I have been doing.

Yesterday Lynda and I split up bright and early, taking parts of the family in different directions. Sarah and I headed to the church. We helped put up the Christmas trees, hang wreathes, futz with strands of tree lights, eat coffee cake, and sweep the floor. Lynda took Grace and Hannah to get more flu vaccines at the pediatrician's office in Hilliard.

After those chores were all done, we all got haircuts and bought groceries. And all that was done before noon. (So, take that Shirtless, who didn't even get out of bed before 12:30 yesterday.)

But there was still plenty more to do. Later that night we spent a few hours decorating Christmas cut-out cookies for Sunday's church pageant. And I made chocolate-covered pretzel rods that will serve as a gift to the kids' school teachers. By then it was past 8:00 and time for kids to be in bed.

Once we were done with that Lynda made some angels wings for Grace's role in the pageant. There was lots of tracing, cardboard cutting, gold spray-painting, and star attaching.

Then we went to bed.

This morning we got up and had pancakes, eggs, bacon, and drinks. (Because Lynda needs to make a big breakfast once a weekend to earn her good parenting badge.) Then we hurriedly got dressed for church. We realized it was raining, so we got umbrellas and loaded up the van. I noticed that Lynda also was gathering the carry box of Christmas cookies to take with us, and I knew that, since the pageant was at 3:30 . . . we didn't have to take them with us, but we were running late so I didn't press the point. (Bad mistake, as you will see.)

We drove through the rain (see how I'm starting to emphasize the rain?) and made it to church five minutes late. The parking lot was full because (as I'd soon learn) there was a baptism today and we had extra visitor; that and the usual increase of people during the Advent/Christmas season.

Because of the rain (!!) I had to drop everyone off at the door and then find a spot at the far end of the parking lot and then walk with an umbrella to the door. But remember that I was also trying to carry the unnecessary cookies in one hand while holding an umbrella (because of the rain, remember?) and did I mention that the cookies were in a carry box? One with a snap-on lid and featuring two plastic handles?

So, while juggling the umbrella--that I wouldn't have needed but for the rain--and the box with the plastic handles and clips, I was forced to rely on the notoriously weak handles and clips to transport the premature cookies. If it had not been raining, I would had cradled the carry box like a stack of wood, or like George Bailey totin' Mary Hatch's books home from school.

But I wasn't George Bailey, it was raining, I did rely on the plastic clips, and i had to walk extra far because of the crowd.

Twenty steps from the van, while avoiding a puddle, the clips failed and the carry box separated top from bottom. The cookies that the girls had painstakingly iced and sprinkled tumbled onto the wet asphalt, broken, inedible, and so very, very unnecessary and premature.

I paused to gather my awareness of what had just happened. I resisted the urge to curse the heavens while standing in a parking lot flanked on one side by an Episcopal church and one the other side by a Jewish synagogue. I reaisted the desire to keep in walking, leaving the cookies to dissolve back into flour, sugar, and butter. I stooped down and put the sodden cookies into the faulty box. Then I put the box in the van. Then I went into the church to find some perspective.

-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)


Nana Cheri said...

I'm sure Job felt like this at times. So sorry!

Sven Golly said...

(from a critical distance) Would it be cruel to wish you more adventures in order to bring forth gems like this? Yes, it would. It might even be cromulent, cowardly, secular!