POST by ANNA: Polident and Hoverounds

One lovely Minnesota day, I was driving down the highway as my dad dozed off in the passenger seat. I only had my driver’s permit at the time, but my dad seemed to have confidence in my driving skills.

We passed a large hardware store where a truck carrying four large, metal patio chairs pulled out in front of me. All was well; I maintained a safe three-second following distance behind the truck. Actually, it was much more than three seconds because I was paranoid that one of the chairs would fall out the back of the truck.

It appeared that the chairs were not strapped in, and in one of those “what if something terrible happened” moments, I thought “How funny, yet traumatizing would it be if the chairs all flew out of the truck bed?”

I continued to drive like a grandmother, daydreaming about poli-grip and hoverounds until I looked up from my speedometer and saw a large patio chair fluttering around between the air and the road. In that moment, I like to think that I became a superhero.

My senses were heightened. I could hear my dad breathing next to me. I could feel the hair on my arms blow in the air conditioning. I could smell the coffee my dad had left in the car from that morning. I could taste pure strength in my mouth, or was that my gum?

More importantly, I could see the chair in the road and feel the steering wheel in my hands. Thankfully, my exit was right where the chair had fallen out. I tapped the breaks with my pinky toe, slightly turned the steering wheel to avert hitting the chair, and pulled to the side of the road.

In the process, I really do believe that I hit the chair because I heard a loud noise and felt as if I either ran over the chair or hit the front corner of the bumper. At this point, my dad decided to wake up because I was nervously repeating his name. “Dad….Dad….DAD….” He got out of the car, as we were now on the side of the road, to look at the damage.

To our surprise, there was absolutely no damage to the car. I was elated because I always wondered what I would do when adrenaline really kicked in. What would I do if I had to save my own life, or the life of a lowly patio chair, or even the life of a beat up Chevy Suburban? I now knew. I taunted my dad telling him I had saved his life and mine, as well as the life of the car.

As you now know, I was a dramatic young gal. Today, I use this story as an example of how, often times, I am quite unlucky. Although it may seem like I am moderately lucky since there was no damage to the car, the fact of the story is A PATIO CHAIR FELL OUT ON THE ROAD IN FRONT OF ME WHILE I HAD ONLY MY DRIVER’S PERMIT AND MY DAD WAS SLEEPING. (Maybe I am still dramatic)

Another example of my lack of luck, misfortune if you’d like to call it that, was a day at summer camp a fairly recent time ago. That day I managed to pee my pants, trip and fall during a game of ultimate Frisbee, while the rest of the players came to a halt and laughed at me,  drooling all the while in front of the boy I liked.

Now, in Nicaragua, you would think my misfortune wouldn’t be able to reach me here, right? No. The Briens, who are pretty much the loveliest people I have ever met, have a serious case of the lack-of-luck. Say that ten times fast.

The sink will leak and then get fixed. Only though, if minutes before, the car tire pops, or the well runs out of water, or the horses run rampant through the neighborhood. Someone throws a rock in the pool. The showerhead pops off because of too much pressure.

The light bulb I take to move to the bathroom with no lights breaks in transition. I try to pick it up and burn my hand. I venture off to find a dustpan to sweep it into and there is not a one in sight.

My goodness, I love it here. That probably sounds sarcastic, but I have grown to embrace the lack-of-luck in my life. Of course, it can be frustrating at times, yet it  provides a good laugh everyday. The Brien family is truly delightful almost always laughing about the strange everyday mishaps that strike all of us.