Yes, this is the bomb blog.
I meant to have this written and published during the Christmas season. Not because the story embodies the spirit of Christmas (it really doesn’t), but it did occur around Christmas time, and I feel the connection is valid.
However, every time I sat down to write, it just wasn’t good enough.
Have you ever had one of those experiences that are so unbelievable, you have a hard time telling the story to people?
When you relive the story in your head, you find it difficult not to pee all over yourself?
Something random will remind you of it and make you burst out into your ugly laugh, while strangers stare at you, wondering what asylum you escaped from?
That’s just me? Oh well, they make for some glorious memories.
A few years ago, before P was in the picture, my mom and I decided to go out shopping for Black Friday. We love shopping. We literally try to “shop til we drop”. That being said, most years we stay in after Thanksgiving ( we value our sleep and sanity too much.)
This particular year, however, we thought we would try the less frequented shops, and also an antique mall or two. We set out with my sister early in the morning, hit a few stores, grabbed lunch, and then headed to the antique mall. We were probably in the mall a few hours, enjoying the fact that although it was more crowded than any other time during the year, it was substantially less crowded than the mainstream stores we would usually go to. We finished shopping for antiques, then walked to my mom’s car, where we sorted out our purchases for the day. My sister drove off in her car, and I rode home with my mom.
This is where the story gets hilarious.
My mother and I pulled up to a stoplight, two cars back, in the middle lane of a three lane stop. ( Yes, those details are important for the story, I’m not just being overly descriptive.) Thinking about this story now, I realized this had to be the LONGEST stop light in the history of stop lights. While we were sitting waiting for what must have been an eternity, we started hearing a strange noise.
At first it wasn’t enough to even break the flow of our conversation. After a few seconds, one of us wondered out loud
That’s weird, I don’t remember buying a watch?
We went back to whatever it was we were talking about. All of the sudden the beeping increased and intensified.
My mom and I stopped talking and stared at each other. I gave a nervous chuckle, tried to hide that I was terrified, then reached behind my seat to find what was making the noise from our bags. Then the beeping got worse.
I’m not exaggerating in the slightest when I say it sounded EXACTLY like bombs do in the movies.
My mom screamed.
Katie, get your hands out of the bags!
I looked at my mother. When I saw the FEAR in her eyes, I knew we were going to die.
Growing up ( who am I kidding, I’m still like this), any time I had a headache, I just knew I had a brain tumor. Chest pains? I was developing symptoms of a major heart attack. So, all of that being said, I’m prone to jumping to insane conclusions, and over reacting. I yelled
We have to get out of the car!
I started to open the door, but when I realized mom wasn’t going to abandon the car with me, I stayed back, willing to die in the blast with my mother. I urged her to move the car. We couldn’t just run the red light, two cars back ( yes, it was still red. Again, longest light I have ever sat through), so my mom started inching the car forward.
I’m still not sure what she meant to accomplish by doing this. Maybe motivate the person in front of us to run the red light, so we could get away? Seemed like the only solution at the time.
So there we were, mom tailgating the man in front of her, me screaming and crying, banging on the dashboard, yelling at all the drivers around us.
Did I mention it was Black Friday shopping traffic? Cars were EVERYWHERE.
It was around that time that I started to pray. I prayed that God would delay the bomb going off long enough so that mom and I could get out of the car. It was also during that time that I started thinking of the dogs.
That’s right, not my husband, my dogs.
I cried, thinking about how I would leave our dogs motherless. I imagined Rod trying to feed them, while they sat at the door, knowing mommy would come home any minute. But mommy wouldn’t be coming home, mommy would be blown to bits by a car bomb. I cried harder.
FINALLY, the light turned green.
I had never seen my mother floor the gas pedal like she did that day. We pushed ahead, and cut off traffic to the right so that we could pull into a Kohls/Sonic parking lot. We found a row of nearly empty parking spots, and peeled in. Both of our car doors flew open. Mom ran toward the front of the car. What did I do?
Folks, I literally dove for cover behind a car that was parked a few spaces down.
I mean flying in the air, face landing in the cement.
I looked up and noticed my mom wasn’t hiding for cover. I yelled,
Mom! Get over here! You’re going to DIE!!!!
Mom refused. After a minute, we were still alive. I looked up, car was still there. Then I realized, I didn’t hear the beeping any longer. I got up from my crouched position behind the car, and walked with my mom toward the Mazda. She started to open the back door, while I stood behind her begging her not to. That brave woman starting rummaging through the bags. Then we found something that caught our eye. Something we forgot that we had bought.
It was a “World missionary, Great Commission” clock. You could move a peg around to different points on a map, and it would tell you what time it was in that area of the world. And it had an alarm set. An alarm that sounded JUST.LIKE.A.BOMB.
We got in the car, relieved, and drove home to tell everyone the story, thankful we could let them listen to the clock so they could determine for themselves that we weren’t crazy. Someone, I think it was Rod, asked me who I thought would put a bomb in or on our car? I told I’m I just assumed it was some crazy antique mall shopper, who had slipped a bomb in one of our bags. I came up with this conclusion after the fact, I didn’t have much time with all the panicking and diving behind cars.
Speaking of diving behind cars. Those parking spaces we parked on? They were right in front of a VERY busy Sonic, in the midst of happy hour. You’re welcome, Sonic customers, for your 10 minutes of pure entertainment.