HERE IT IS: EPISODE 7
A NORMAL DAY IN THE LIFE
Hope you Enjoy!
(Scroll down though my posts if you missed the other episodes.)
(I hope you realize this is just for fun! I never claimed to be a literary genius!đ)
A NORMAL DAY IN THE LIFE
Episode 7
I really was not afraid at that moment. What I was was darn freezing cold! I hadnât taken time to put on my boots. I was standing in what felt like ten inches of that white, frozen, melted, and refrozen stuff called Sneet! Thatâs like sleet and snow put together. Itâs not a pleasant thing to dip your dainty toes into.
The rest of my attire didnât speak to my normal talent of dressing in the current fashion trend. I looked down at myself and did a full inventory of my get-up. I was wearing my Dr. Seuss knee-highs (The grandkids love âem) and my high-top bumper tennis shoes with daisies embroidered along the sides and top. (Again, the kids thought Grandma was kind of funky). Not only did my footwear leave room for a moment of skepticism about lapses in my mental health, but also the rest of my attire wasnât much better. I had rolled up my blue jeans to mid calf to show the kids my socks and never unrolled them. My purple sweatshirt and the royal purple jacket that Iâd pulled on as Iâd rushed out the door were my personal tribute to the Minnesota Vikings. A stern Viking visage in a gold football helmet with horns adorned the front of the jacket.
Thatâs what the Packer thief saw when he popped his head out at me around the corner of the garage door. I knew he saw me, because he flinched and quickly ducked back out of sight. He may have noticed my gray hair, and crazy attire, but I hoped that wasnât the only thing that stuck with him. I wanted him to know that I wasnât going to give up. He probably thought he was dealing with a crazy woman.
And maybe he was! I didnât like to think that people thought of me as that grandma who was unstrung, but putting it in perspective, people had to realize that having a $10,000 cashierâs check plus another $2000 in cash stolen would likely be enough to drive anyone over the edge! I summoned my courage and yelled at the guy again.
âGet out here this minute! I have a gun, and the cops are on the way!â Now neither of those things was true. At least, I didnât think the cops were on the way, but he didnât know that. I pushed that hammer handle forward in my pocket and raised it up a bit, waving it at the garage door.
I took three steps forward and stopped. Iâd stepped onto the thin ice surface of a frozen puddle, and it had broken. Cold ice water seeped into my sneaker. I suddenly had momentary visions of frostbite, my feet turning blue, and losing several of my toes. Lifting my sopping foot, I gingerly wiggled my sopping toes, tested the next spot in the snowdrift, sunk through the fluffy stuff, and came down on solid ground. From that point, I hopped foot-to-foot, snowdrift-to-snowdrift until I was standing about fifteen feet in front of my car. My Escape was still running behind me. I really wish I hadnât slammed the car door. I needed my own escape plan, just in case.
I called out again, waving my âgunâ at the garage, making my demands. Then I saw a quick flash of movement. My purse came flying out the open door directly toward me. It landed several feet in front of me in one of the deeper snowdrifts, of course. My first instinct was to run up and grab it, but a small voice told me to wait and be patient. What if he was just trying to lure me closer so he could shoot me? I waited.
âThere it is! What else do you want lady?â He demanded. âGo get it!â His voice was sort of whiny, and I knew I had him! Pretty scrawny and just a kid, I thought. I could use my angry mother tone on him.
âI want you to come out here this instant. You need to apologize for what you did! You took advantage of a senior citizen. What kind of person did your mother raise you to be? Didnât she teach you to show some respect?â
âMy motherâs not around. Sheâs been gone a long time. I just needed some food! Besides, youâre obviously just a loser yourself. I saw your jacket. You Minnesota Vikings never could win anything!â
That did it! The purple rage was dripping down my eyes when I began my charge toward the garage. Iâm pretty spry for my age. I do my yoga regularly. He actually looked shocked that I could run. He was standing like a frigid statue when I tackled him, just like a real Viking player. I head butted him, too, and that really hurt. It knocked him off-balance, and we fell into a heap in another frozen puddle at the edge of the door.
We were both lying there dazed, when two police cruisers pulled up behind my car. I lifted my head to see my son climb out of his patrol car, shake his head, and heard him call, âMom!â He sounded worried.
He and another officer soon pulled up both the little twerp and me. My son took me aside, and I looked over my shoulder to see the other officer ushering the thief to his patrol car. My son was busily brushing the snow and slush off my jacket while berating me for not listening to anything I was told to do or not to do. I seemed to remember that same speech from mother-to-son years ago.
©Gail Lee Cowdin 2020