Humor
I have decided that while I am thankful for a van that runs and requires no car payment, I can no longer live with a driver side window that does not function. What was once a power window taken for granted has become a window that has only two positions - mostly up or all the way down in the bottom of the door well. At first when this problem presented itself as having no visible window at all, my husband's solution was to pull the window up using only the very tips of his fingers backed up by the sheer force of his under-the-breath diatribe, followed by an amazing feat of dexterity that involved jamming wooden shims between the window and the frame with enough speed so that the window would not fall into the door well during the process.
At first I was glad for his ingenuity. Then, as if for no other reason than to humble me, the window would randomly fall completely down into the door taking the shims with it at the most inopportune moments like when driving down the freeway at 60 mph or innocently waiting at a light. You've not been humbled until your window drops with a THUNK loud enough for the passengers of the cars around you to wildly look around for the origin of the noise and then to settle their gaze upon you. Now if this happens in the middle of summer when it's not unusual to have a window open, you can pass this off with a smile and a polite wave. What gets awkward is when it's below zero and your hair is blowing around in the arctic breeze as they look at you. Somehow a smile and polite wave at this point only helps to make you appear a bit unstable. I won't even tell you about the horrors of going through a drive thru be it a bank or a fast food joint and having to pull way ahead just so you can get out of your car to receive your goods that way - as if it's normal to stand in a drive thru, especially when you forgot to put the car in park first thanks to the sheer social anxiety the whole situation can cause. Then there's the tremendous fight involved to overcome the ridiculous need to explain that your window just doesn't work but you're going to get it fixed.
As the situations around the window became more aggravating, my complaints to my husband had become more incessant. But alas, more ingenuity! See, when you replace the ineffective wooden shims with bright yellow tent pegs - the problem can potentially be over thanks to the little hook on the pegs that attaches itself to the door frame thus preventing the tent peg from falling down into the door never to be seen again like the multitude of shims that have gone before. Problem temporarily solved and a promise elicited from my beloved that yes indeed, he would call and order the part needed to fix the window for once and for all. Whew! "Now," he says "you can get the car washed like you've been whining about. Those pegs have that window closed tightly."
You've also not experienced true stress until you pull into a carwash with what turns out to be a false sense of security. There's nothing in my life that can quite compare to the stress of warm soapy water gusting at my car with enough power to move it and seeing the first of many rivulets running down the inside of my window rendering the faithful tent pegs useless as I frantically placed my hands and cheek against the window in a desperate attempt to keep the window mostly closed and avoid the unimaginable fate of a carwash micro-dermabrasion with a bonus treatment of hot wax. All this while assuring my crying 4 year old that it's okay, there's nothing to be scared of, mommy didn't mean to yell and no I'm not yelling at her.
All this to say, I have fought envy at nice new minivans with automatic doors on each side and built-in car seats for the happy toddlers of the 'have it together' moms that seem to drive them. But I have continued to be thankful that God has seen fit to bless us with a good, reliable, payment-free van. Some days, like the day of the carwash, I have not felt very thankful or blessed but rather engaged myself in a small pity party at the cost of an entire day spent irritated and less than fruitful. And on days like today when I make the mistake of watching the news, I realize how blessed I really am as I peel what I hope are the last bits of hot wax out of my hair.
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