Years later I figured out that once I got too old to plop in a high chair with a coloring book and some crayons, this was my Mom's way of guaranteeing some Sunday morning sexy time with my Dad
My Dad had this really cute little blue pick-up truck at the time.
|Like this - only blue|
Note the little hooky thingies. Those continue around the tail gate too, so you can tarp down your garbage when you're taking it to the Dump. Which was also one of my favorite places to go even if my Dad would never let me out of the vehicle so I could search for buried treasure.
I've always told myself that I picked that truck out. I have no idea why, but they had me with them while they were shopping used vehicles and that blue truck was the one I liked best. Why they had me with them, or why I liked it best. Considering it was a Ford built by Mazda and my Dad worked at Chrysler, it's a wonder they let him in the parking lot with it.
So there I am one Sunday getting dropped off by the Sunday School bus, and something exciting must have happened - maybe it was the Sunday they had me convinced that I could never really die because Jesus would bring me back to life - so I came running off of that bus to tell my parents about my morning.
All of a sudden my world went black.
When I came back to my senses, there was blood streaming down my face. I had run right into the back of that bright blue pick up. It's a wonder there wasn't a dent in the tail gate from my face. I had two black eyes from that incident. I guess I was lucky I didn't break my nose and have to wear that Phantom of the Opera face cast that a girl I went to school with wore after getting hit in the face by a baseball.
Must have been a big let-down for my mom after enjoying her child free Sunday morning.
Also? Mom stopped sending me when I became too immersed in the whole resurrection thing - she was worried I would quit watching for cars when I crossed the street or something.
I think this counts as a for real Sunday Morning Nookie post, since there were no brakes bled in it.
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