Boxed In

Today was my nephew's farewell. He has been called to serve in the Fort Launderdale, Flordia, spanish speaking mission. When we arrived at church, the parking lot was quite crowded (as they usually are for mission farewells). I was amazed to find people who thought they had “cool” cars or trucks, taking two spaces to avoid door dings or scratches to their precious vehicles. I think they should have put me in charge of parking so that I could determine which cars were worthy of two spaces. The very average truck taking two spaces, was a one space vehicle. While on the other hand, the porche', might have been a two space automobile.

I finally found a perfect space to park in the North West corner of the lot. The only disadvantage was the mounds of snow in front and to the side. Of course if someone parked in the space behind me, I wouldn’t be able to get out. The snow made these two spaces incompatible. I was positive that no one would park behind me, and if they did they would only stay for one meeting.

The farewell was fabulous! I love to watch these young boys grow into young men. They are so valiant and ready to serve the Lord.

After the farewell concluded, we were walking out to our car when Mike said, “I think you are boxed in,” and I definitely was. The two big boys’ (Jordan and Mike) tried to guide me out of my position, but it was not to be.

Jordan and I both went inside, interrupted the meetings in progress to announce our predicament. No one fessed up, except for the adorable little 3 year old primary children. We just grinned and moved on. I finally asked the librarians to take the license plate number and car make and model around to other meeting to find its owner, and I returned to the car.

I asked a kind relative of ours to shuttle my kids and our food contribution over to the farewell festivities. I stayed with the car knowing that the librarians wouldn’t let me down, and someone would be out in no time at all to claim their car. I waited, and waited, and finally called my chauffeur to pick me up.

There were many inquiries as to whether or not I left a note on the car that boxed me in. I felt like I wouldn’t be able to write a note that was “church appropriate”, so took the high road and decided not to leave one at all.

The suburban has a new bump on the fender from 4 wheeling on the icy snow banks, and had a difficult time adjusting back to two wheel drive. I can say however, that we are a one parking space family.