My good deed

Well, school's out. Cry with me.

Having Gabe home all day, everyday, is fun for the first few days when you get to sleep in, but after getting up at the oh so leisurely hour of EIGHT O'CLOCK ( a whopping 30 minutes later than the school season schedule :) I realized that all I was getting was more mess to clean up after the boys made their own waffles. In the living room. With lots of syrup.

Gabe has swimming lessons for the next four weeks, four mornings a week and although they're not until 10:15, I still manage to be late. This morning I had a really good reason. I saved a turtle.

As we were driving off, only 10 minutes behind schedule at this point, I noticed a small turtle, strategically placed in front of a car tire. I immediately pictured the tiny thing getting crunched, and I kind of panicked. I slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. I didn't know the owner of the car but that didn't stop me from knocking on a couple of doors to find out who did.

First door, no answer. Second door, I hear a window opening. I look up and don't see anyone but I hear a voice, "Yes?" I'm thinking of that new monster house movie, but a turtle's life is at stake here! Cowboy up, Monique!

"Um, hi, I'm your neighbor," I stammer, trying to figure out how to explain why I'm apparently waking someone up from a drunken stupor. "Is that your Honda?"

"Yes," replies the voice.

"Well, this is going to sound strange, but there is a small turtle right next to your wheel and if you go anywhere, you're going to kill it. I just wanted to let you know."

"Um, ok. Thanks for letting me know."

Of course a normal person would just move the damn thing, but I am NOT an animal lover (not a hater, just not a lover) and especially not anything green, slimy or that I've recently pictured getting crushed into green slime. I know, I'm a big baby, whatever.

But I don't stop there. I see a woman smoking on her front porch and since she's the only one around I say, "Are you averse to touching a turtle?" (I know. I have such a way with words. I can't believe anyone ever paid me to write.)

I get the expected, "What the F***?" face and I quickly explain the question. She says, "No, but I know someone who will." And she actually called someone from inside her house, on her cell phone and had them move the turtle to safety.

Isn't that cool? Now I want to find the little punk who put it there and kick his butt. But I felt so good that even though Gabe was late for his lesson, we did something good. And I actually taught him something about compassion and priorities. That feels good.

How I will explain being late for the other 15 lessons, I don't know.