a ~ Would it have been worth while, To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

crack

For months I’ve had a crack in my windshield. It was a polite crack, smiling shyly behind the rear view mirror where I’d only notice it if I was looking up at a particularly odd cloud, or to see if the rain had finally started (usually it had).

And then, yesterday. A hot day. A hot day that boys decided was meant for hose play. Cold hose water on a hot car windshield and whoosh, that smile took a long drop off a cliff. Now when I drive I have Before/After thoughts because my view is split into two. Before summer vacation starts, After summer vacation starts. Before my allergies kicked in, After my allergies kicked in. Before vegetables became a part of our lives again, After vegetables…. you get the idea. My world feels especially dichotomous today. 

I suppose a phone call will have to be made, arrangements will have to take place. 

Last time this happened I was lumberingly pregnant with T and I followed precise instructions from an insurance agent to a glass place a few towns away and ate a sandwich in a very sunny window while chatting with a photographer. I forget his name. I remember a photo, though. Two photos. One of a view that did not include an up-close tree branch, and one of the same view that did. “Which do you like better?” he asked. “That one,” I answered. “Me too,” he said. Then his wife phoned from the basement and told him it was time to get back to work. 

That was the Before. This is the After. I will not eat a sandwich in a sunny window and chat like I was an interesting person. I will be busy making sure a five year old does not destroy all the glass. I will be answering questions about how glass is made. I will be apologizing for forgetting to bring water bottles. I will be listing all the yummy things we’ll eat later, if we are good, if we can just please be quiet and polite for another 20 minutes. I will be remembering myself as a singular entity and shooting warnings back in time. I will be making a huge effort at a gratitude that, at that moment, will escape me.

But… I’m projecting. How about I make some dinner, pour some wine, ask for Highs and Lows from the smudgy boys sitting around the table? The crack will wait another night.

About andi

Writer, editor, wrangler of small boys and dogs.

One comment

  1. Gwen Diehn

    Love this! But do you not have the mobile glass-replacing truck in New Hampshire?

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