Not The Night Before Christmas Story

I sat dumbfounded, hands frozen to the steering wheel, as a result of the deafening noise and violent crash that rocked my wife’s faded and dated little Honda. The car stopped in the middle of the street in front of my next door neighbor’s house as I verbalized an automatic expletive. I recall seeing Blitzen’s nose pressed up against the windshield with a startled look on his face. Before I could gather my thoughts; he Dasher-ed off…imitating a Dancer or a Prancer…with the speed of a Vixen-ed Comet. We watched…aided by the light of our high beams, in stunned silence…as Cupid Donner-ed his attempt to escape unnoticed. When I regained my composure, I got out to investigate the possibility of a sled embedded in the right front fender…or worse a dead body dressed in a red suit. But no…there was nothing…nothing but a thoroughly crushed quarter panel. We had been the victims of a hit and run. The perpetrator had left the scene neither leaving his insurance info nor his phone number. Where is Rudolph with his red nose when you need him? I got back in the car to hear my wife announce “I’m getting a new car tomorrow.”

And so it came to pass…after more that a year of driving me nuts with her indecision…and with questions like “which car should I get?” she did it. She made a decision…all by herself…she got the silver one.

Thank you, Lord, for sending a sign
For this is a prayer that has been mine
Thank you, Lord, she made up her mind
In this my Lord you are infinitely kind
Amen.