I mentioned Toad-Boy's early driving skills, or lack thereof, and I believe X-ta made some remark that reminded me of yet another little incident, which triggered another flash of remembrance regarding the other grandparents' vehicle. Yes. Yes, it's true. My son made his mark in two states and on quite a few vehicles.
But this story is about his hidden skills as a driver.
This particular winter was snowy. One day he came home all cherry-cheeked and snow-covered. Seems he did a little cookie and somehow got high-centered on a median and had to shovel himself off/out.
So you'd think I wouldn't hand over the keys to my van.
You'd think. But you likely know me a bit better than that by now and are completely not surprised that I did.
This trip he arrived home with no incidents to report. However, the next morning I went out to the van. Now, the van appeared to be fine. No dents, dings, all tires inflated. Then I decided to stick something in the backseat and discovered that there was no outside door handle. None.
Now this handle HAD been a flat piece of metal matching the color of the van, not a large sticking out handle. This particular handle had been resting flush with the surface of the van. You had to stick your fingers in a little hollowed out hidey hole and pull out to open the van door.
Now the handle was gone. The only evidence of it ever having been there was the empty socket, of course, and a teeny-tiny knick at the very edge of said socket.
Perplexed but pretty sure I knew who was responsible I reentered the house. "Toad-Boy...Dear...What happened to Mommy's van door handle?"
"Huh?!?" This grunt was accompanied by a deer in the headlights stare and slight pinking of his cheeks.
"My door handle is missing. Gone. Back door, passenger side. What happened?"
Toad-Boy jumped up and rushed out of the house and inspected the scene of the crime. Then I watched as he bent over double, laughing hysterically.
Finally, he came back in. "I thought I heard a clicking sound."
Too make the interrogation process that followed a little easier on all of us. He had gone the snow emergency route that is infamous for residents who don't get the concept of snow emergency route and they all part willy-nilly around the carved-out snow banks made by the snow plows. He had gone the speed limit in a cruddy situation thinking that not only should you not exceed the speed limit, but that you mustn't go below it either.
To this day I just hope it was a large mirror that clipped off my handle and not a person. And I don't know how it was even possible for this little driving miracle to occur, but I'm pretty sure Toad-Boy has skills that defy the laws of nature and science. Somewhere, buried in someone's house gutter is a lonely maroon metal rectangle that used to be the handle upon my van. I hope. I really would hate to think I might encounter some poor person with a permanent maroon eye-patch.
Merry Christmas from Toad-Boy and me. Hope your New Year is happy and blessed. And I hope you don't have any snowy mysteries to solve this holiday season. If you have a Toad-Boy, don't give him your keys til Spring.
