Chucklehead strikes again. In the hustle and bustle of last week, I overbooked our Saturday and created one big bottleneck of happenstance. In the excitement of finally learning to tie down the kayaks on to the roof of our car last week, I invited some friends to go kayaking with us on Saturday forgetting Bailey and Carly we’re coming to visit for my birthday on Saturday. Also, earlier in the week, we had promised to take care of my wife’s grandkids. All of these commitments were made sincerely and were not idly made this time, which is my typical MO being the respectable cur that I am. It turns out fortune would smile down on me…again.
When our friends texted that they were excited to go kayaking, I had to put on my big boy pants (a phrase I have trouble using now because I have a co-worker who lately has taken to overusing that phrase, which I gotta say if you feel like you have little boy pants on it’s not other people’s duty to put on your pair of big boy pants for you. There, I said what everyone else has been thinking at work). It was time to face the hard truth and shamelessly have my wife text back about what a fool I am. We did, however, earnestly make a date for kayaking later on this month.
It turns out Bailey and Carly woke up late and left Grass Valley even later than had been planned So that meant changing plans. Changing them to what? I did not know. I would be winging it once more. Even though I have refused to acknowledge it in the past, I too have faults, and it was becoming apparent yesterday that planning is not my strong suit, which is funny because I have a Mother who lives for planning and is famous for the magic powers of her planning hands, but that and my subsequent psychological damage from excessive planning is for another day, another blog entry. (Just kidding, Mom).
The girls arrived at about 3pm. We hugged, laughed, cried (mostly on the inside) and decided to go up to Lake Tahoe. With that settled, I was onto the serious task of putting the kayaks on the roof again. I have to say I was incredibly efficient getting those kayaks on the Toyota’s roof. I think I am ready for my own prime time how-to video. With the kayaks all secured, we rushed everyone into the car and were off like a bat out of hell to Lake Tahoe and Sand Harbor, praying all the while that the kayaks would not fly off during any part of our drive. Thank goodness, nothing did go wrong. We arrived at Sand Harbor but right away, in my excitement to take charge, I took the turn that leads out of the park. So once again we had to enter the park, but wisely this time I choose not to take the road out of the park but correctly choose the road to the loading/unloading area.
As we were trying to find a spot on the beach that was both close to the water and the beach according to my wife’s orders, I heard a “Hello Hansens”. And you’ll never guess who it was, our friends who we had to cancel on earlier. Well, I say now, wasn’t that a good stroke of luck. Friends and family at the same beach. A twofer!
Tammy and the girls and I all took turns kayaking around the Sand Harbor area. And then as that lucky ol’ sun was about to set we went out with our friends and enjoyed the incredible view of Tahoe, the mountains, the curious cloud formations and the sunset. As if it was all orchestrated just for me, chucklehead extraordinaire, I could hear nature’s silent anthem to the free, feeling a little redemption for my past errors.
If that wasn’t good enough, unbeknownst to me, I had unintentionally fulfilled a wish of my wife’s of being out on the Lake when the sun is setting. Talk about luck, all in the same day I was a good friend, Dad, and husband. Rarely to do the stars align like that. My cup runneth over. I guess everything is blessed in some way, or at least I hope that is true because I am 100% certain I have more stuff to mess up.