A Bit Of Morning Commute Drama
“What in the world was that?” was my first thought, followed by “please tell me it was not my …”
Let me backpedal a little.
The morning started out like any other. I was driving my children to school along Kalanianaole Highway when boom, my Prius felt a jolt.
In a split second, I felt like I was starring in one of those movies that starts at the end and gradually reveals how the character got to this place. Only this movie is playing out in real time.
I quickly deduced that it was not a pothole. Heaven knows I have hit bumps in the road along this stretch before, but this was an unfamiliar jolt. (Besides, crews are painstakingly repaving this stretch as I type.)
OK, so it was not a pothole. What was it?
I go down my list of options. Hmm. A rock or debris?
Nope. It was a distinct thud. Something in the road?
No, that doesn’t make sense. It clearly sounded like something falling off my car, not an item I drove over.
That’s when my mind starts racing. “Please tell me it was not my … iPhone.”
Could I possibly have been that clueless to leave my phone on the roof and drive off?
No, I think to myself, it had to have been something else, but what?
Again, I start going down a mental check list. I know I loaded the kids’ backpacks and home lunches. My bag is in the front seat.
What could have caused that thud? And where is that phone of mine?!
Just as I was starting to think about the horrible proposition of my phone flying off the roof, a driver in the car next to mine motions for me to roll down my window.
Part of me is dying to know what he’s about to tell me. The other part wants to die of embarrassment.
OK, here goes.
I roll down my window and the driver kindly informs me what happened.
He says, “Your kid’s shoes flew off your roof by the bridge.”
I sheepishly say, “Thanks, I was wondering what that was!”
At this moment, I am grateful. It was not my phone. Hallelujah! It was my daughter’s Sketchers Twinkle Toe tennis shoes. The second thought that comes to me is: “Thank goodness my daughter has slippers in her cubby at school!”
I laugh at my bit of morning drama. Thank you to the driver who broke the news to me so matter of factly. I get the feeling he’s seen this episode unfold before.
A footnote: I did drive by to see if my daughter’s shoes were still on the road, but they were nowhere to be found. I guess Santa will have to bring some replacements.