The air was still and quiet, the trilling of robins the only sound. A soft wind, full of promises of spring, whispered through the trees. Somewhere close by, a creek burbled merrily. The peaceful sounds of nature surrounded our Jeep, broken only by three-year-old Andy’s record-scratch whine of “why did we stop?”
“Yeah, Jeremy, why did we stop?” I said, glaring at my husband. Our off-roading adventure had come to a pause when our vehicle lurched forward, sputtering and coughing itself to a quiet death. “I told you we needed gas,” I hissed at him. Jeremy frowned, staring at the dashboard. “Says we have a quarter tank left; maybe the fuel pump blew.” Whatever it was, we were stuck in the woods, with daylight fading, two antsy kids, and four hungry tummies. Six-year-old Molly was watching us closely, her owl eyes wide. After investigating under the hood, Jeremy popped back in and said “we’re not that far from town. If we push the Jeep forward, I can winch it off that tree and we can coast down to the main road.” Okay, no problem. A little hard work never hurt anyone, right? Wrong. You’re talking to the woman who blew her back out by sneezing. There’s no way I could do this! Still, I hopped out, my feet sinking into a mud puddle. “Okay, ready? Push!…………………..Are you pushing?” Jeremy called, “nothing happened.” Repeating a phrase I’d said during labor, I gritted my teeth and told him “I. AM. PUSHING.” The Jeep inched forward, agonizingly slowly, taunting our efforts.
“Just a little more,” Jeremy puffed, “dig your feet in!”
My muscles straining, I gasped and said, “I can’t!”
“Why not?” Jeremy asked.
“Because I’m wearing FLIP FLOPS!” I yelped. Here I was, in the depths of a soggy, cold spring, pushing a 4,000 pound hunk of metal wearing foam on my feet.
“Okay,” Jeremy said, “that should do it.” He unwound the winch from the front bumper and hooked it up to a tree, engaging the motor and pulling the car forward. Soon the Jeep was at the precipice of a small slope, so Jeremy unhooked everything, and I hopped back in. With one last mighty push, our vehicle started rolling downhill, heading back towards civilization. Talk about a lucky break!
Andy and Molly let out a cheer as we reached the main road. Jeremy parked the car, and called his dad, who graciously drove out and rescued us. The Jeep was towed home, where it now sits forlornly, awaiting repair. We escaped without a scratch, and with a funny story about our high-stakes escapade. The lesson I learned from this? The one that was pounded into me with the subtlety of a freight train? When selecting footwear, flip flops are never the right choice!
