Mom likes to watch TV crime shows. Well, combine that with her active imagination and her tendency to be jumpy, and you have the recipe for some pretty funny situations. One such time happened on a motor home trip a few years back.
While Mom was in the back of the motor home, making beds and straightening up, the car behind them caught her attention. It was following too closely, and Mom could see that the men were impatient to try to pass the slow-moving coach. As she looked more closely, Mom’s imagination kicked in. These men were rough and mean looking. Their car was battered and dirty. The driver appeared to be yelling, leaning his head out of the window and flapping his arm impatiently. Mom got one of her “funny feelings” and started to imagine what mischief these men might stir up, but her thoughts were interrupted by Dad calling for a new driver.
Dad usually did most of the driving, but he liked to take small breaks to stretch and rest. Being a very efficient man, however, he did not like to take the time to pull over to switch drivers. He would set the cruise control, slip out of the driver seat (still steering with his arm outstretched to the side) while the next driver slipped in behind the wheel. It was Mom’s turn.
“Ken, that car behind us wants past,” Mom cautioned.
“Well, they can wait,” Dad replied as he lowered his speed and set the cruise control. Mom snuck a quick look through the back window and a sense of fear washed over her (too many crime show scenes floated across her mind’s eye). Reluctantly pulling her attention away from the scary men behind her, Mom saw that Dad was already out of the seat and waiting for her to take over.
Dad headed straight for the back bed and Mom checked her mirrors. They were still there, following closely. Still impatient. Mom’s dread grew by the minute. And then she saw the car pull into the opposing traffic lane to pass. A part of Mom was relieved that she would be away from this car of possible murderers, but she didn’t like them coming along side of her one bit.
Sometimes life’s sense of comic timing is so perfect it seems scripted, for at the exact moment that the car of dreaded men was next to Mom, one of the motor home tires blew out with a huge, “Bang!”
Mom let out a blood-curdling scream at the top of her lungs, shouting, “They’re shooting at us! They’re shooting at us!”
Kari and I jumped up to see what Mom was yelling about, but Dad ambled up to the front very calmly, apparently unmoved by Mom’s screams. “Marci, we blew a tire,” he stated very matter-of-factly.
It took Mom a second to realize that her fears and worries were for nothing, and then it struck her funny (of course). Laughing so hard she was crying, she managed to pull over to the side of the road. Turning around, she saw all of us looking at her like she had lost her mind, which just caused her to laugh even harder. Catching her breath for a moment, she squeaked, “I wonder if they thought we were shooting at them?” Dad just sighed and shook his head, but Kari and I couldn’t help laughing, too. Mom knew we were laughing at her, not with her, but she didn’t care….it was too funny to care.