THE LULU CHRONICLES
LuLu-ism # 20: Be careful what you wish for, it may come with a pile of manure.
Yesterday’s ride was recorded at seven miles. The Fake Knee settled in nicely, well, as good as a glob of titanium can settle in with all that flexing and pedaling going on. The cowgirl whined like a toddler who was refused a cookie before supper. But other than that, all was well until a manure truck passed me. Remember what I said the other day about how wonderful bike riding was because you see everything in detail that you normally miss while driving a car? Well, let me tell you, seeing a truck full of cow dookie up close and personal almost made me recant those words. That was one ugly truck and what it started dumping on the field next to me was about as ungodly as it gets. I flipped LuLu’s gears and got out of there as quickly as I could.
Down the road I passed a house I used to drive by every morning going to work. I remember one winter morning passing this house during a heavy snowfall. School had been canceled and the children I normally saw standing at the end of their driveways waiting for the school bus, were all happily tucked in bed rejoicing in their good fortune… except for these two kids who looked to be fourth and fifth graders. They were out shoveling their driveway. I remembered thinking what would possess these children to do this at six thirty on a miserable snowy morning? Well, yesterday I found out. Their dad must have promised them a pony. Because now out behind that garage was a fenced in area. A stable lean-to had been added to the family garage and grazing as pretty as you please was a pony.
In fourth grade, I would have done anything for a pony. I asked for one every Christmas. I promised to wash dishes every day of my life, or wash the car every week, or mow the lawn or dust the furniture or keep my room clean from now on, if my parents would just consent to buy me a horse and allow me to keep it in the utility room right next to the washer and dryer. “The neighbors won’t care,” I whined. I lived on the same street as Beaver Cleaver with front lawns and sprinklers and houses that were sandwiched next to each other. My parents smiled at my cuteness and then ignored me.
When you were a kid, did you have a hearts desire, something that you wanted so badly your bones ached? Did you ever get it? Was it as good as you thought it would be? Or, was the anticipation and wanting it way better than the actual getting it? There’s a lesson in that somewhere.