Making a Mountain out of a Mole Hill ??
Looking for a Miracle???
I am so mad I could scream. And I’m a Christian, dammit, so I have to be NICE. I think I finally understand why Jonah ended the way he did. Jonah must have had a run in with the camel registration folks in Ninevah.
The Christian life is all about perseverance. We are told to persevere until the end. I have this fear of messing up royal just before the end. I have this fear of not ending well. I have this fear of the slippery slope into the area of no rewards. I have no fear of losing my salvation, but having the Lord Jesus Christ frown at ya from across the courtyard after the rooster crows…now that is not something I want to cause.
I am not working for rewards. That is silly. Rewards are a result. Just being IN heaven is reward enough. Just avoiding HELL is reward enough.
All this to say----what the _____happened?? Back in freaking October, we got notices that it was time to fork over our yearly fifty bucks to Tarrant County for an updated sticker. Here in Texas we have TWO stickers on our windshield. One is our inspection sticker. It says I am driving a car that is NOT polluting, and the horn works. We have to drive to local shops displaying the Texas sticker and they shove a sensor up the tail pipe and test your car, and you just hope and pray your older car passes inspection. If it does not pass, then you get to take it to ANOTHER shop and pay for a tune-up and then go back for another try at an inspection sticker. That fun is coming up next month with our ten year old Plymouth. But, the other sticker, the sticker associated with your license plate is a transaction I usually do through the mail. You get a notice, and it comes in three parts, and you pay the fifty bucks or more, and they send you a new sticker which you affix to your windshield. So, back in October, we got notice that the Plymouth and James’ new truck were due for new registration stickers by Nov. 30th 2008. I let James know that this would be a great time to get personalized plates if he was gonna, and I would pick them up for him---as you can only pick up plates for Tarrant County downtown Fort Worth.
James picked out his plates online, ordered them, and sent me the copy of his receipt. No problem so far. I waited the six weeks they advise, and when they came in on November 6th, I trotted downtown Fort Worth, drove around the block three times to find a parking place, and walked up to the clerk with ALL the paperwork necessary to pick up the new plates, and get the new registration stickers. I shoved all the new stickers and plates in my purse so that I would not lose anything and brought them home. James came home for the Veteran’s Day weekend, and put his new sticker on his truck, and I helped him affix the new license plates. He kept the paperwork in his glovebox, as this is necessary to get on his Army base which is actually a fort. Or, is it a post? Anyway, in none of these times when we actually TOUCHED the sticker did we notice that the clerk printed out the wrong YEAR. I kid you not. Either I am incredibly stupid or gullible to not check, or I am too damn trusting of the clerk to print out the correct one…but I am so angry that I could scream. And I have got to get a grip. I have to go back downtown Fort Worth today after assembling all the paperwork AGAIN, and not lose my cool and end up in jail. And then I need to go to the post office and mail the CORRECT sticker to James so that he won’t get a ticket, and so that he can leave the post-fort-base to get his oil changed.
Why? Why? Why???? I feel like Jonah. I feel like yelling at the clerk: “okay, you _______, do you need to hear the gospel or something, is that why you only sold me a sticker good for 24 freaking days???” I want to be sarcastic and mean and laugh hysterically. But, I do not want to end up in jail. And I am a Christian, and have to be nice, or there is that whole apology thing, and repenting, and being a poor witness thing. Good grief.
Poor James. Here his mom hands him a sticker that she says she got from an authority, surely, it must be right. And the guard at the gate jumped all over him for his “expired” sticker. James knew that was not right. He pulled out the paperwork---it clearly says, dated 11-06-08 and good through 11-08. But, who buys a fricking sticker that is only good for 24 fricking days???
They are usually good for a year. In fact, in all the thirty-six years I have been purchasing these stickers—which used to affix to the license plate, not the windshield---in all my thirty-six years of doing this, this is the FIRST time they printed it out WRONG.
See, it is all in how you look at it. I was due a mistake, eh? But, it feels like this registration paperwork for James’s truck is somehow cursed. At first, when the truck was new, we had a horrid time proving the sticker was his registration, as the new truck sticker still had the dealer’s name one it, and the ARMY gate keepers in Kentucky, and Oklahoma had trouble with just a sticker on the windshield. We had to go to the office and get the proper PAPERWORK which stated the same thing as the sticker. Note to military parents and wives---get EXTRA copies of your vehicle registrations. Thankfully, I had made extra copies because of our previous problems.
Rant over. Time to put on my big girl pants and get over it.
But, I’ll be looking for the miracle----I’ll be looking for what I was suppose to do or say or see today in downtown Fort Worth. Maybe a meteor is going to hit the house, and because I am going to downtown Fort Worth, I will not be here to get conked on the head. Call me worst case scenario mom.
update: I survived. The clerk gave no apology. She said the company that makes the personalized plates has gone out of business. Strange. It was never about the plates. It was about the sticker issued by the county. Oh, well. The correct sticker is on its way to James. Soon he will be legal again. Able to come and go without fear of getting a ticket. But, what have we learned today? Double check paperwork issued by the city, state, and county government. Make extra copies. And keep it all in a handy folder.
Beautiful day. Beautiful sunset. I watered the front yard even though it was windy, and made Bob a cherry pie. Night. Night. Oh, yea, and we watched our favorite movie again: THE DISH (Australian)
Hiding something here: Bob, if you are reading, stop now. Marshmellow alert.
Yes, I know it is spelled marshmallow. But, that is a stupid spelling, in my opinion. And since correcting spelling is a pain with blogspot, forget-about-it.
My dear husband hates, and I mean, hates marshmellow crispy treats. He either overdosed as a kid, or had a bad experience, or something. He said the smell even makes him sick-sick-sick. But, hey. I am a mom who does not waste food. And we had this big bag of marshmellows left over from Thanksgiving's sweet potatoes, and I could not throw it away. I had to make something with them. And I had a box of cherrios---cherrios are good for you. Oats. But, I carefully made a batch, and hid them in an opake bowl with a pink lid. Finished them off all by myself. Good roughage. My favorite rice crispy treats are made with coca rice crispies. Now, aren't I thoughtful? Keeping the bad smell away from my dear husband. And thankfully, he did not ask what was in the big white tupperware bowl. He enjoyed the cherry pie.