I know I have not written in months. Just not motivated to… But this morning something amazing happened. Truly a gift from God.
So this morning I am headed to take my daughter and her friends to camp. The camp is 30 minutes away from home so we headed out early to be on time. We stopped to pick up her friends and as we are getting into the car one of them says “Aunt Shannon, I really want a box turtle.” To which their mother says “You can have one, but only if you find it. We are not buying a turtle, the perfect one will find you.” So we load in the car and I am thinking someday we will find the perfect turtle. As we are driving out of the neighborhood, I look ahead on the road and I cannot believe it. In the middle of the lane, are you kidding me? There is a turtle. A perfect little box turtle. So we drive ahead and turn around. We get out of the car and rescue the cutest box turtle you have ever seen. He has his head poked out like he is thanking the kids for his rescue the entire ride back to my bestie’s house. In the meantime, 4 other neighbors have also turned around to save him and we are yelling out the window that he is in the car, safe and sound. So, we drop off the turtle and get back in the car. About 8 minutes behind schedule.
So we drive to camp, listening to the Black Eyed Peas and I change the lyrics to reflect the amazing turtle rescue that just happened. All of us are so excited that the turtle found us, even though we are a little bit late. It was so worth it. And then we get closer to the bridge we cross to go to camp. And it is dead stop traffic. An accident has just happened. The bridge is closed and police cars are blocking both sides of the bridge and diverting traffic. And miraculously, we are late today.
The accident is an 18 wheeler and a few other vehicles. There are a dozen police cars and an ambulance flying by. Who knows what would have happened had a little box turtle not crossed our path this morning. That little turtle may just have saved us from being involved in an awful accident. He is precious and I cannot help but “what if” today.
All I can say is… Thank God for little turtles. Guardian angels come in all kind of packages. All you have to do is recognize when one crosses your path.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I am right up there with the poachers that club fluffy white baby harp seals to death and the morons that sell exotic cats to idiots in Mississippi who live in trailers and wonder why they are not a suitable home for a 250 pound cat. I see you when you drive by in your Prius with your dreamcatcher in the rearview mirror glaring at me and shaking your head and rolling your eyes (I can feel that even if you have on sunglasses) as if I have broken a Commandment or two or four. A lot of times I look in my own rearview mirror to make sure that I did not just run over a puppy accidently because the venom pouring out of some people’s eyeballs is toxic. Of course, my car is so heavy that it would have to be a pretty big puppy for me to know I rolled over it in the first place, poor little thing. Don’t even dream of merging into said Prius’ lane. Puh-lease. Be ready to wait until a sensitive Escalade, Suburban or Navigator comes rolling by. Props to my 12mpg compadres. You see, you either love me or you hate me. There is no grey area, unless you bought the slate grey one like I did. Not when you drive a Hummer. And not just a little H3 mind you, the gas guzzling behemoth that is an H2.
Luca, who should be renamed Lucifer, just had a beautiful and satisfying day if I do say so myself. He swam and fetched with his training dummy for over 2 hours at Mom and Dad’s palace, he was given leftover steak and treated like a king.
I am irritated with my body today. Really, really irritated. I went to the rheumatologist and tried to put on the Shannon show for her around 1pm. You know the one. Happy, sweet, adorable, funny and HEALTHY. Only, guess what, the medical professional that she is did not buy it. Needless to say, the fever, ulcers and swelling in my right hip and wrist may have given it away. Smile or not, she called it like she saw it. The “F” word is trying to say hello and I am not interested. The worst word you can say in my world is the “F” word. No, not the one you never want your 7 year old to say or know under any circumstances.
Now, take a look at that girl. It’s OK. You can laugh. It is so bad and so ugly that you cannot believe it is the same girl. But yes, it is me. No really, it is. Looking like a big round basketball head lesbian ponytail wearing prisoner from Angola. That is how ugly I can be when I am pumped full of 100mg of steroids every single day and am 35 pounds heavier. Holy shit! is the reaction on most people’s faces when they see my driver’s license photo, taken in June of 2005. I was so sick when that photo was taken. Most of the time, people just look and then look again but sometimes they speak. They say, “is this you?” and most times my joke is “that is my before shot” and they laugh an uncomfortable laugh and I can tell they are trying to decide what kind of work I had done to make me possibly be the same person. The day that I went to the DMV to get this license I did not know I was going to have to have a whole new license made. The guy behind the counter took this photo and looked at my old license at the weight of 130 and said to me- “you sticking with that weight?” Um, what are you saying Mr. DMV. That I do not look like a size 2 in this photo… The look I gave him said it all. But you know who never ever made me feel ugly or unattractive. My husband. Not once did ever let on that I looked like a blonde Rosie O’Donnell. He always told me it was temporary and he was right.