So what had happened was...
SIDE NOTE: Our middle son, Logan, had a friend who used that phrase all the time. Logan figured out real quick that, whenever his friend started a sentence with, it meant a BIG LIE would follow.
But, this story is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth...
For years, Logan, has been talking about wanting a motorcycle.
Every time he would bring it up, I would just say, "NOPE," and go on with my life. Because I'm not interested in my son riding a killing machine, thank you very much.
Doesn't this make me sound like a grouchy, old, fuddy-duddy?
Get off my lawn!
And, even tho I think I parent with intention, and do my best to try to learn about the things that interest my children...I was apparently not interested in taking the time to listen to my son's heart on this matter...or even entertaining a conversation about something I don't like.
Like a lot of us in America right now, huh?
ANYWAY, a couple of weeks ago, Logan sent Jim some info on a motorcycle he'd found on CRAIGSLIST.
Which, in my mind, Craigslist is where people go to die.
You young people turn down your music!
He was wanting to borrow our trailer, drive to Tulsa on the weekend, and pick up this motorcycle. FROM STRANGERS.
When he came home later that week, he talked to us about it. I started off with my typical, "NOPE," and he quietly said, "Mom...I'm not asking."
Because, ya know, he's an almost 27 years old, married man, who has the complete support of his wife on this matter.
WELL.
So fast-forward to later that night: Jim and I crawled into bed. He said, "Moose, I am NOT feelin' this whole motorcycle thing. I don't think it's safe at all. If he does this, he's going to have to pay for it himself...I'm not paying for it." And he went on and on until I stopped him. I said, "you need to have this conversation with Logan in the morning."
And, y'all, I woke up in the morning, and walked into the kitchen. Logan was sitting at the table, drinking coffee. I asked if we could talk about the motorcycle, and he said, "yes." I expressed my concerns about the whole motorcycle thing, and asked some questions...which he answered completely and rationally. And then I did the most awesome thing: I LISTENED TO HIM.
I listened as he told me about how much research he had done on this particular type of motorcycle. I listened as he told me how he had saved money for this motorcycle. I listened as he told me that he'd bought a helmet, and other safety supplies. I listened as he admitted that he was not comfortable riding a motorcycle yet, so was wanting to keep it here with us until he was. I listened as he told me how he was wanting to ride the motorcycle to work to save money on fuel, and wear-and-tear on his car. I listened as he told me how he dreams of weekends spent riding on some beautiful roads...seeing parts of the country at a slower pace.
I gave him a hug, and my "if you are sure this is what you want," speech, and went back to get ready for the day.
When I came back to the kitchen...just a few minutes later...Jim was back from his run. He and Logan were deep in excited conversation. Those two goons were looking at pictures of motorcycles on the internet, and they were...giddy.
And I heard these words from my husband, the love of my life: "Logan, I know that is a little more money than you wanted to pay, but if it's a newer model with less miles on it, I MIGHT PITCH IN SOME MONEY IF I CAN HAVE FUN ON IT, TOO."
Exxxxxxx...SCUZE ME?
How long did I sleep?
How did, "I'm not for this...it's not safe...pay for it yourself," get to "YIPPEE, LET'S HAVE FUN TOGETHER ON A MOTORCYCLE AND HERE'S SOME MONEY TO HELP?"
I don't understand.
I knew Jim's family had a history with motorcycles. When we were dating, I remember his youngest brother rode a motorcycle to work or school. When we were first married, I remember that we took that motorcycle on a date...and he taught me how to ride it. I also remember insisting I could ride the larger bike, since I had, ya know, ridden the smaller one for all of 5 minutes. Being a "city girl," I had no clue that cows walk in a straight line...or that that line makes a deep-ish track in the field that is a perfect place for a motorcycle tire to get stuck. Good thing I was only going 2.1 miles an hour, because I tumped that big bike right over.
Jim said that his cousins had motorcycles, back when they were all young. The story goes that Jim and his two younger brothers BEGGED their parents for them, but they were NOT havin' it.
Until they came home from the motorcycle store with THREE of them.
I'm sensing a pattern in Jim's family: all bark, no bite.
So the bike in Tulsa sold before they could make plans to get it, but they found one about 35 minutes from our home...and, on Saturday afternoon, armed with a wad of cash, they took off to go get it.
I was more than a little nervous about it. To be perfectly honest, they were, too. But they plugged the address into the GPS, and off they went.
To hear Logan tell it, it was quite the trek. He said they got off the main road, and started taking gravel roads into the boonies. They had to turn around when the GPS led them to a road that led to nowhere, and they had to turn around. Jim said, "I'm concerned that these people might rob us, and then kill us." Logan said that, about that time, they passed a pipe-line area, where TONS of equipment was parked. Logan said, "yep...and that's how they'll bury our bodies."
There's more to the story, but it would require another long post, and this momma is tired.
They met up with a couple of "good ol' boys." The bike sale was all legit, and everything.
When the guys asked if Logan if he wanted to start it and ride it, he deferred to Jim...telling the men his dad had more experience...even tho Jim said he hadn't ridden a motorcycle since 1982.
But Logan said Jim fired the thing up, and TOOK OFF DOWN THE ROAD. When he got back, he said Jim had the biggest grin on his face. He told the men, "IT ALL COMES BACK TO YA, DOESN'T IT?"
Which, the face, the smile, and that comment are NOT what you want to say when you are trying to negotiate a lower price, amiright?
It's basically why, on the few times we've shopped for cars at a dealership, Jim will tell me, "DO NOT ACT LIKE YOU LOVE THIS CAR."
So that's what happened over here this weekend.
"So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him." Matthew 7:11
No comments:
Post a Comment