Please Don’t Tell Santa

Maybe the three recent events I’m about to describe wouldn’t land me on Santa’s naughty list, but in each case, I made the very uncharacteristic decision not to tell my husband about it, at least not until later. After all, only one of the incidents resulted in an explosion. And, as far as I know, only God (and Santa?) saw what happened.

So, last month’s AAA magazine contained a warning to owners of autos with push button starters explaining that it is very easy to exit the car and leave it running. A running vehicle in an enclosed garage could cause carbon monoxide poisoning in the home. Tragically, an elderly couple in our area died in that way in the last year. Still, I thought to myself, “I can see the danger for older folks, but I’m not going to accidentally leave my car running.”

Let this confession be a public service announcement to all.

After parking at the elementary school where I volunteer, I remained in my running car a few minutes and then gathered my things to head inside. In some order, I opened my driver’s side door, pushed the lock button, and pressed the ignition button to turn off the engine (maybe twice?). I heard a few beeps while exiting the car, but shut the door and headed into the school. While I was visiting the First Graders, more folks parked around and behind me in the lot. When I came out an hour later (wince and shudder), I found the car running. I didn’t notice whether it was locked or not since I’m able to open it with the key fob in my bag and wanted to leave quickly.

The magic that lets me open doors and start my engine without a key.

The next few minutes were spent thanking God that no one had stolen my car and that an embarrassing announcement had not come over the intercom, and deciding not to tell Dave about my huge mistake. I didn’t want to upset him and vowed that it will never happen again.

The other two mishaps, including the explosion, didn’t seem as serious. But, the first happened the very next day and, again, I decided to keep it to myself. In our bedroom, I filled a laundry basket with dirty clothes and then tossed my cell phone on top of them to carry it all downstairs. Only I forgot about the phone by the time I got to the washing machine in the basement. Mercifully, I heard a little thud as I was dumping the laundry into the dry machine and had the sense to look inside to discover my undamaged phone.

By God’s grace, neither of my first two accidents ended in disaster.

A few Facebook friends may remember the Exploding Casserole of 2013. I can give you the recipe if you’re interested…

Saint Dave cleaned it up while I grieved the loss of dinner.

This week’s explosion did not result in any injury or broken glass.  My husband is, however, learning about it for the first time as he reads this post. (Why is it that keeping secrets gets easier every time?)

I’ve been experimenting with a technique I found on the internet for boiling an egg in the microwave. It’s quicker than the stove method and nice when I want to add an egg to my lunch salad. During my first attempt, I discovered that my microwave must be more powerful than the one in the demonstration because the egg popped a little before the recommended cooking time ended. I had to clean up the oven, but did get the egg cooked for my salad. After tweaking the time and cook power, things seemed to go better. But a couple of days ago, I emptied my egg into the bowl of hot water, salt, and vinegar and, I thought, set the time and power correctly. Then as I watched through the window, the water began to boil and the egg exploded, blasting the door open and spraying hot water and bits of cooked egg all over! I jumped back with a scream, once again thanked God for protecting me in another mishap, and set about cleaning up the mess, a mess that left me thinking I may be done trying.  Neither the microwave, nor the stoneware bowl was broken, and I salvaged a little of the egg for my salad. I did not take a photo.

I can explain…

We all do dumb things, especially when we are distracted by life’s challenges. Sometimes we make excuses or beat ourselves up. I’m trying to give myself some grace and just be a little more mindful. I truly am grateful for my God who watches over me and for my husband who helps clean up my messes.


the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

Psalm 121:8, The Bible






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