Better Him Than Me: The {relatively} Non-Ogre Version

Y’all are not going to believe what I did.

I began this post the other day with this same title because I planned on telling a funny on Luke. {Hang on for that because it’s still coming.} Anyway, shortly after I began I got a call about my uncle Ken’s stroke and my writing shifted directions. The unfortunate thing is that the title did not follow suit. Bottom line is I ended up with a post about my darling uncle suffering a massive stroke with the title “Better Him Than Me”.

Yeah.

Here’s the thing. Do you ever have moments when you are so emotionally overwrought that the least thing will either send you wailing into a pit of despond or into seizures of maniacal laughter? Well I typically respond with the latter and somehow, I knew God allowed me to find that glaring mistake to comfort my heart the way He knows I cope best – with a good ‘ole belly laugh. And as I shared the other day, it’s totally okay to giggle because Ken would think it was hysterical.

Speaking of maniacal laughter (how’s that for a segue?) we did plenty of that in Florida. I only took two pictures at the beach. Here is one of them:

You just can’t do the blueness of the water justice from nine stories in the air, but trust me when I say the Gulf was as clear and beautiful as I’ve ever seen it. Not that I saw it much because most of the week we were doing this:

This is the only other picture I took in Florida. This is Chuck a.k.a. The Funniest Stinkin‘ Person God Ever Put On This Green Earth. He is a definite cure for the emotional constipation Luke and I have been suffering from for the past couple of months. And since we are on the subject of cures (another segue!), how about a shout out to Ford Chiropractic and my friend LeeAnn B. who works there. I’m sure Chuckie got this t-shirt using reward points from his frequent visits. If you want your business to prosper, get him excited about your product and/or service and you will be set for life. The handgun, dough bowl, and Fonzie jacket people can testify to that. {Don’t you hate being trapped outside of inside jokes? I’m so terribly sorry. I couldn’t resist.}

Seriously, though. Chuck and Debbie are the best of friends to us in every way – spiritually and practically. Spending a few days with them every fall is absolutely one of the highlights of our year.

And speaking of highlights of my year {Wow. Did you see how I did that AGAIN? Segue #3!! A record!!) Luke got a speeding ticket on the way home from Florida. Nananabooboo. Stick your head in … ahem, sorry. I just get a little carried away when preachers get snagged by the long arm of the law. (heeheehaaahaaaheehee)

Yes, you heard right. As we were flying Miss Daisy’ing through Montgomery, Luke got pulled over and busted with a big ‘ole fat ticket. I’m not excited about the big fat fine, but the heavens have opened and shined down upon me with one fabulous thing I can hold over Luke’s head from this time forth and forever more. From now on if he starts busting my chops, all I have to say is one word:

“79”

And there will be silence.

And I will be vindicated.

Here’s what is completely awesome: Had it been me, Luke would have been all “you need to slow down blah blah, you’re going to have a blah blah wreck, and our blahdy blah insurance is going to blah blah blah…”

There would have been no end. Ever.

But as it were he said, “Well, the ticket probably won’t cost that much and the officer said one ticket won’t make our insurance go up and I never even saw a sign when the speed limit changed from 70 to 55.”

Whatever makes you feel better about yourself, dear. Just make sure you come out clean by the time it’s all over because Lord Have Mercy I would have to cry a thousand tears to garner any sympathy had it been me.

And this is why God grants favor to women when they cry on police officers because He knows, He knows, what we’ll have to listen to when we get home. And know for certain had it been me the tears would have flowed freely for many different reasons but chief among them would be the grief I could look forward to for having been stopped to begin with. (I can not even count all the verb tense issues in that paragraph.)

And that, girlfriends, is why it is so incredibly much better that it was him than me.

Now that title makes sense, doesn’t it?

Dern. I just deleted my signature again. Note to Blogger: How about an ‘undo’ button?

Lisa

{Disclaimer: Luke and I enjoy a wonderful marriage appropriately seasoned with healthy doses of sarcasm. You could say it’s our secondary love language. Kelly will understand. So, please be assured that Luke gets that my jabbing at him is a sign of adoration. Yes, girls. Love hurts. :)) }