On Friday morning steel gray clouds scudded across the sky and a restless breeze washed over the neighborhood, heralding bad weather to come. Hoping for rain, I ducked into my car and turned the key, then glanced over my shoulder as I sped down the driveway, later for work than usual. Then a thought struck me and I lurched to a stop a few feet from the road. My sunglasses, unnecessary that morning, were still in the house. It may have been too shady for shades, but the sun could break through later, leaving me to squint my way home again at the end of the day. I pulled up the parking brake, unclicked my seat belt, and threw open the door.
At that precise moment, the sprinkler in the front yard sprang into action. After the last cycle the head had come to a stop facing the driveway and now, with no warning, it burst on, hurling morning-cold water at my face, my skirt, the inside of my car. I spluttered, jumped out of my seat, and slammed the door, then sprinted onto our porch and out of range. As time ticked, I paused to wipe the drops from my face and watch the sprinkler sweep across the yard, dousing everything in its path.
I laughed, of course, and shook my head. I had to. It had been that kind of week, every day filled with miniature disasters, every night spent in tense tossing instead of sleep, every email and phone call left unanswered. This Friday morning comedy routine only added to it all with such perfection. I wanted to put it in a novel, down to the promise of rain hovering above the scene as if foreshadowing the whole event. It was, however, too well-timed to be real, too slapstick to be believed, and therefore too weird for fiction.
LOL! I would’ve risked the sprinklers for my sunglasses too– can’t live without ’em!
Come on, Caryn – admit it. You needed a shower. That really is a rough start to a day, though. I know. It’s happened to me before, too. I hope next week goes better!
Cue Twilight Zone music: we are living parallel lives. Not that I’d need my sunglasses, or that sprinklers have come on here–because it hasn’t stopped raining in weeks–but, yeah, the whole pissing on me thing–yep, feeling it!
And yep, I do laugh, in an only because I don’t feel like cryin’ kinda’ way!
Alyson, I used to never wear sunglasses, but now I’ve got terrible wrinkles. Not only that, but my eyes hurt in bright sunlight now. Hence the addiction.
You mean I’m supposed to bathe myself more than twice a month, Katie? Who knew? 😉
Exactly, Lainey. I could have laughed or gotten really mad. I chose to laugh. Not that it was easy, but it was definitely preferable.
Caryn, I’m beginning to think that we might be related. Either that or we’re destined to write a sitcom together. 🙂 Here’s hoping that this week is much better for you!
Wow! You described that moment so beautifully, it played like a movie in my head. I hope that you had a relaxing weekend, and that your Monday was uneventful. 🙂
This is something that happens often in my nonfiction life.
Carrie, that actually sounds like a lot of fun! Of course, if your life is like mine and the sitcom is based on those lives of ours, then it will need plenty of slapstick. *Sigh* I wish I were a bigger fan of slapstick.
Thanks, Jenny! I’ve been playing around with description lately since I usually don’t use it as much as I should. This was the result. And, yes, my Monday went fairly well, thanks. I hope you have a great week!
You, too, JD? It’s comforting to know I’m not alone.
LOL, Caryn–you painted that incident so well!! Hope the clothes dried quickly and that, someday, you’ll find the perfect book scene in which to use this experience :).
and you must put it in one of your books one of these days!