In the Burger King drive-through:
Me: What is that down there?
My Son: I can’t tell.
Me: (Rolling down the window.) Hmmmm…
My Son: It’s an antler! Hold on!
(Son gets out of the car and grabs the single worn antler from the drive-through lane.)
Me: You are NOT putting that antler on my car.
My Son: Yes I am!
During the next five minutes we discuss how not to put an antler in a window, my son almost gets his hand caught in the window, I beg him to take the antler off the window and then we drive away with a single antler pointing happily towards the sky. Connected to my window.
After that it became a competition. The antler is taken off. The antler is snuck back on. A few weeks after Christmas I managed to hide it and forgot all about it. Until last week, when it was discovered and placed back on the car. In January.
But sometimes life throws attachment in your face when you least expect it.
This morning my son opened the window while we were driving. And then I heard him scream.
“Nooooooo! The ANTLERRRRRRRRRRR!”
I looked in my rear view mirror and sure enough, there was a single, lonely antler in the road. And it was becoming smaller and smaller as I watched.
Sheer panic. “Mom. You have to go back. YOU HAVE TO GO BACK!”
My mind spun a million different ways within a second. And then I made a u-turn. My son bolted out of the car. Says I? “Wait! Here is my camera… TAKE A PICTURE!”
Seeing him race to the car with an antler in his hand and grin on his face made me think. Not all parents would have turned around to get that old worn antler. But I did. Had I become attached to that stupid thing?
No. My attachment to my son made me turn around. Sometimes it is the little things that make life good. No, that make life great. Today I made my son smile. And it felt good.
The next time you see something in the middle of the road, stop. Because you never know what might bring you the next moment of joy.
Now where can I hide that antler?