Drive Through Giggles

Yesterday was an amazing day. The sun was shining, and the mountains gleamed. The only time I put on a coat was early in the day when Erik and I ventured outside. I sat on the front porch to dry my hair in the sun and enjoyed my coffee while I blew sparkling bubbles for Erik.

After work, Brian and I decided that we would make a rare, admittedly naughty after-dinner run to Dairy Queen for Blizzards. The three of us piled into Brian's truck and enjoyed the orange glow of the sunset above the mountains on our drive. This extra hour of daylight means I no longer have to miss this beautiful sight while I sit in my office working.

The drive-through was clogged with cars filled with people with the same idea. We craned our necks to read the sign and decide what we would choose. Brian suddenly looked at me with a hint of panic in his eyes and announced, "My window doesn't roll down!" You see, it has been at least a year since Brian's window has operated correctly in his truck for some mysterious reason. It is quite obvious to me that men have a different set of priorities than women. I consider myself a completely sane, middle-of-the-road feminist, but it is pretty darn apparent to me that no matter how you slice it, men and women are entirely different in a thousand different ways, this one being a prime example. In the past year I have overheard him mumble something about borrowing some sort of special wrench from the neighbor, but nothing ever seemed to come of it. Understandably, he had much bigger fish to fry, and this little annoyance was soon forgotten. The last year has been a little difficult, to say the least.

Brian drives a double cab, four-door Dodge pickup truck. We purchased it after Erik was born because it seemed to be a safer family vehicle to drive than my tiny Toyota pickup ever was. To my complete amusement, when we pulled up in front of the drive-through speaker, Brian quickly reclined his seat so that the top of his head was just at the level of the window behind him. He then began confidently shouting his order from the region of the back seat. Erik looked down at his father, who was suddenly lying beside him, with a completely blank, slack-jawed expression. That did it. I burst into a uncontrollable giggle fit, which quickly spread to Brian, and he had to fight to contain himself long enough to get our order out. I was curious to see how he would pay for our order and retrieve our food. I was disappointed to see that he did not pay using that same method but drove a little past the window and simply opened his door. We drove home before our treats melted, and Erik was pleasantly surprised to find this bizarre oddysey yielded a little bowl of Oreo ice cream for him to savor.

There are many things in life that make it worth living. I have to say that, in my opinion, laughter is as close to heaven as we get at this point. Equally delicious is hearing my husband's rare giggles. I love that. At the risk of embarassing my very stoic, serious, professional, normally very dignified husband, which was certainly not my intention, I had to share this story.