The Pot and The Kettle

For many, MANY years Tim has tried to encourage, remind, rebuke, guilt, and otherwise nag me into locking the doors to our van when I get out. It's a good habit -albeit slightly paranoid and I try to remember, I really do. But to no avail. It's just not ingrained in my get out of the car ritual. There have even been a few times when I've left the car keys, my purse, etc. in the van all night while unlocked. I know you're all thinking someday she's gonna learn the hard way and you are probably right. But in the meantime, we continue on this cycle: I leave the doors unlocked, Tim says "I wish you wouldn't do that," I say "okay", I leave the doors unlocked, Tim says "I wish you ...." I think you get the point.

Here is an interesting turn of events which happened today. We loaded up the van and met a friend from church to do a "Pastor's family photo" shoot at the seminary near our house. We parked in a nice shady spot at the back of the student parking lot. (shhhh, don't tell the little dudes on the security golf carts) We unloaded and went into the building for a few shots then walked a 1/4 to a 1/2 mile down the road for some outdoor poses. Maybe twenty minutes later we returned to the parking lot and as we neared the van, I asked this obvious question, "Tim, why is the driver side door wide open?"

You know those moments when somebody does something really stupid and you are about to rail on them (in love, of course) and then they completely own up to it and it just sucks the wind right out of your sails? Then you felt my pain. Humbly and matter of factly, he replies, "because I apparently never closed it." hmph. I decided to drop it and move on. YEAH RIGHT! I goaded him on by saying with sheepish melodrama "It's a good thing I didn't leave my purse in there." Refusing to crack, he confidently pointed out that it was not a problem since "at least the doors were locked."

Stinkin' pot.