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Monday, August 08, 2005

Proof That God Has a Sense of Humor

Sunday isn't usually a holy day for someone who's Jewish. But yesterday, I had concrete proof that God truly has a sense of humor. And I'm not talking about the platypus, the only animal out there made up of spare parts.

Top Five Pieces of Evidence That God Has a Sense of Humor:

No. 5: Bacteria. Specifically, when I was running late to pack a picnic lunch for me and the Tax Deductions, I made all three PB&Js and got them into their baggies before I noticed a nasty creeper of green on the bottom of the bread. Ick.

No. 4: Gas. Still running late, the TDs and I got into the car and onto the highway for a 35 minute drive...and I noticed we needed gas about two minutes after I passed our local station. (Tax Deduction the Elder was kind enough to point out to me that I had passed the gas station.) So I got off at the next exit and pulled into a gas station only to find the price there a full dime more per gallon than by us. So I doubled back, filled up, and 25 minutes after the initial starting time, got back onto the highway.

No. 3: Tiny airlines. Loving Husband, in Virginia visiting one of his best friends, was stranded at the airport because the pilot simply didn't show up for work. After waiting for two hours to see whether the flight was going to be cancelled, the airline was still trying to find a co-pilot.

No. 2: A toddler's joy of bookstores. When the boys and I went to a local bookstore, Tax Deduction the Elder took off in one direction while Tax Deduction the Younger sprinted off in the other. Forty minutes later, I was exhausted from chasing them all around the store (including under tables), but it was more exercise than I had gotten in ages.

And the No. 1 Piece of Evidence That God Has a Sense of Humor:
Computers. Case in point, yesterday I turned my computer on only to find the screen almost completely black. After trying a few things and inventing a few new choice curse words, I shut it down, convinced that my computer's occasional hiccough had finally evolved into a silicon epidemic. Loving Husband, freshly returned from Virginia (only eight hours later than planned), figured it out immediately: the brightness needed to be adjusted. Duh.

Can you say "ha-ha-lelujah"?


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