Sunday, July 26, 2009

Carefully Laid Plans

Yesterday was one of those days that was timed almost to the minute. The schedule went something like this:

I left for the "Joe" (the nickname we have been using for our rehab house) at around 9:00. On the agenda was to replace a plank in a hardwood floor and then continue dealing with the upstairs bathroom. Deb and Abigail arrived around 10:30 to paint some trim.

Josh was working at the bike shop, and David stayed home. He and his friend, Patrick, were going to try to remove a stubborn crankshaft pulley from David's car.

Deb and Abigail began their cleanup at 1:05 and then left for home at 1:15. Deb had to finish a meal she was making for someone in our church. She had been planning and thinking about this meal for two weeks, carefully collecting and assembling the ingredients over that time. We were planning on delivering the meal on our way to sister Sherry's house in Kalamazoo. Since we had to be there at 4:00 and it was an hour's drive, we needed to leave our house at 2:30 to leave room for the side trip to deliver the meal.

I stayed a little longer to puzzle how to set a square tub into a bathroom that was not quite square. Also, the bathroom is six inches wider than the tub, so something needs to be built to fill in the gap.

Around 1:30 the phone rang. I am not accustomed to carrying a cell phone, so when my pocket suddenly exploded with the Ringtone Concerto, it set me a little on edge.

It was Deb on the phone. The panic was evident in her voice.

"Tim, you gotta come home right now!" she cried.

I had now forgotten about square tubs, drywall, and floor boards. This sounded serious. My mind immediately jumped to the worst. House on fire--no, then she would not be calling from the phone in the house. One or more kids in the emergency room--that's a possibility; I've injured myself more than once trying to fix a car. Also, with teenagers on the road, one of them may have smashed a car.

"What's wrong?" I shot back, still trying to conjure up even worse scenarios.

"David ate the chicken!" she said, almost in tears.

"I'll be home right away," I told her. I re-hung the front door that she had painted earlier in the day, locked up and left for home. With the main ingredient for the meal we had to deliver in a little over an hour now missing, we had to come up with Plan B.

Plan B was very similar to Plan A. Deb had some additional chicken in the freezer that she had all ready to put on the grill by the time I got home. After the chicken was done, she prepared the meal the second time and we were able to deliver it on time and be in Kalamazoo at precisely 4:00. And no one was the wiser (except now, that this story has been broadcast all over the Internet).

David said the chicken was very good. He was casting about the refrigerator, looking for some lunch, when he happened across the chicken, which was set there to thaw. He thought they were leftovers, so they became lunch.

Now that the Big Panic is over with, we had a good laugh about it.

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