Manda Did a Bad Bad Thing

Well, almost.  I was this close.

I have a friend named Brooke (whom I hope will not mind me putting her on my blog as she has featured me on hers...and I really don't have any readers besides her and a few others, anyhow). She has toted three busy children ages 4, 3 and 8 mo. around crammed into the back of an ancient Ford Escort since #3 was born. About a month ago, she and her husband finally traded in their second car, which her husband usually drove to work (a nicer 4-door), for a mini-van. The neighborhood and friends and family rejoiced to think of Brooke finally having room for all her kids and various stuff, especially as she is one who likes to be on-the-go.

First day of the new van: husband drives it to work.  O.K., he does work hard and should be able to feel some tangible reward for all his efforts.  Plus it's fun to have a nice new set of wheels and men love to find out about all the new vehicle's bells and whistles. Second day of the new van: husband still takes it to work and leaves old Ford Escort sitting in the driveway for Brooke to use.  Now it was starting to get irritating.  Day after day Andy doesn't seem to see any reason why Brooke would need the van more than he would and moans and groans when she asks him to leave the van some days when she has a lot to do.  That she would even have to ask is mind-boggling to me and the fact the he whines about just pushes me right over the edge!! 

I told my frustrated friend I was contemplating letting the air out of the tires while Andy was at work if he kept driving the van.  She was amused, but I'm sure she never thought I would do it.  

So that brings me to tonight.  It's late.  I should be in bed.  But all I can think about is what a bum my friend's husband is being about this van.  Then I think to myself...that's it!  I'm going to do it!  I'm going to sneak over there right now in the dark, rainy night and let the air out of the tires so he'll be forced to take the old car to work.  Then I can just pop over and pump up the van tires after he's gone and Brooke can go about her day in comfort.  Wouldn't that be great? Wouldn't that serve him right?!

But what if the van is parked behind the Ford?  That would cause trouble.  I step out on my back steps to do a little surveillance.  No, I think the Ford is in back.  But, darn, the porch light is on.  Still enough shadows around though.  And it's dark and rainy.  No one will see me.  

But what if they call in the morning because Brooke knows I have a battery powered pump and I end up just going over there to undo what I've done?  Hmmm.  I don't think it would be discovered in time for it to be fixed before Andy had to leave for work.

But what if Andy doesn't notice that the tires are out of air and starts driving on them and ruins them all?  Not only would we have to pay for it, but I'd have to confess my treachery. Hmmm. I'll just let the air out of one tire on the driver's side so it will be seen easily.

But what if, once the tire is pumped back up, it doesn't wear evenly because the pressure isn't right and it comes apart and Brooke goes careening into oncoming traffic on the freeway with her three kids? Hmmm. That just defeats the purpose entirely.

So I came back inside and locked the door.  Everyone I've ever told about this scenario offers to help me with the dirty deed, but when it comes down to it, I think most of them would do the same thing.  We can't avoid thinking about the consequences, and as much as I want you to have that van every day, Brooke, I just can't be responsible for any of the bad outcomes.  Especially the one where you end up the victim of my handiwork.

I hope the fact that I got that close to carrying out my sinister plan means something to you, Brooke.  It takes a lot for me to even get so far as to entertain a very mean and vengeful idea, because all my life I've believed that stuff just doesn't pay.  So what I've concluded is that I hate that Andy's selfishness has kept me up this late, and I hate that it keeps you from getting your van and I think you ought to say to Andy, "Look, honey, this just doesn't make any sense. I'm going to use the van from now on and you get the Ford.  That's just how it's going to be."  And see what happens.  Will he explode?  Will he whine and complain to the point that it's just not worth it to you?  I don't know, but you'll never know either until you try.  

But then what if that causes a huge fight and all sorts of trouble and ends your marriage?  I'd feel responsible for that, too, and that's no good either.

See what I mean?  Darn consequences.  I just can't not think about them.  If I was a different kind of person, you would have flat tires right now, Brooke.

Tell me I did the right thing.