Last Thursday’s late winter snowstorm wreaked havoc with everyone’s schedule. And as usual in my household, Mother Nature and the cosmic universe love to throw monkey wrenches into my plans. I was under the weather with a head cold (not Covid), so my wife was on snow shoveling duty that day.
Our grandchildren were with us for the afternoon. I planned on staying in my warm, cozy house watching cartoons and playing video games with my grandson while my wife took our granddaughter out for a special “girl’s spa day”, and a hairdresser’s appointment for my granddaughter to get her hair cut and styled at a beauty shop in Peabody.
My wife warmed up her Jeep (remote starters are a New England necessity) before she shoveled the front porch and cleaned off the car windows. She came back inside, swapped her coat for a dry one, and headed for the hair appointment with our granddaughter.
Some people are not bothered by stormy weather. My wife is one of them. If the roads are open, she is on them, driving without fear. I’m the opposite. And since I was not feeling 100%, I didn’t mind staying inside looking at the snow outside my window.
A couple of hours later, my cell phone rang in the middle of my Mac & Cheese lunch. It was my usually calm wife sounding a bit frantic.
“Can you check the coat I wore shoveling this morning and see if my car fob is in the pocket?” she asked.
I felt a twinge of panic in my stomach not related to my head cold. I checked her coat pocket, and of course, I found her keys. Why do today’s cars allow you to drive away without a key in the vehicle? It can happen so easily. Especially in my family.
“I have your key fob,” I answered, knowing what was coming next.
“Great, how can you get it to me so I can get home?” she asked.
Since I no longer have my own car, the last thing I wanted to do is pack up my grandson, call an Uber and venture out into the snow and take a trip to Peabody with the key. Especially with a head cold.
“I’ll just pack up our grandson, call an Uber and venture out into the snow and take a trip to Peabody with the key,” I told her. “Unless…”
“Unless what?” she asked.
“I think Uber may have a package delivery service, let me check the app,” I said thinking quickly.
Sure enough, Uber would deliver an envelope for relatively small fee in a short amount of time. In fact, a driver was only five minutes away, and the key would get to my wife in 25 minutes.
I was slightly leery of handing our car keys over to a complete stranger but i was willing to take the risk if it meant I didn’t have to leave the house. I booked the service and let my wife know to be on the lookout for the driver.
According to the information on the app, the driver’s name was Elvis. My wife’s name is Priscilla. The irony was not lost on me. My wife’s hairdresser is a huge Elvis fan. Once again, the universe showed it has a sense of humor.
I packaged up the key, and in big letters I wrote PRISCILLA with her cell phone number on the envelope. I met the driver in front of my house to hand over the precious cargo.
“Are you Elvis?” I asked.
“This is for Priscilla,” I said with a sly smile.
Blank stare from the Uber driver.
“Priscilla. It’s funny because Priscilla was the other Elvis’s wife,” I said barely containing a chuckle.
“Okay,” he said as I passed him the envelope.
Why did this suddenly feel like a drug deal gone bad?
Elvis drove off with the key taking it to Priscilla. Apparently I was the only one who thought this was hysterically funny. In these trying times, one must find humor where one can. I’ve got my eyes open for the next cosmic joke. It’s bound to be a doozy.