Too Funny! by Amy Newmark

Author:Amy Newmark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicken Soup for the Soul
Published: 2022-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

Lessons from a Garage Door

All’s Well That Ends Well.

~William Shakespeare

I had just received a call from my friend Rachel. She sounded so frantic that I could hardly understand what she was saying. She finally calmed down enough for me to understand her. Thank goodness, it was something positive. She had just learned that her artwork had been accepted into an internationally famous art exhibition. For Rachel, this was going to be a total game changer!

Rachel had weathered many years of rejection and lack of recognition for her artwork. As one of her best friends, I was right alongside her as she got punched in the gullet year after year with rejection after rejection. It all seemed so unfair. I would always encourage her to keep going. Not to give up. Her pieces were soulful, inspiring, beautiful, and technically and artistically unique. We both felt like the art world was conspiring against her.

Nabbing a place at this exhibit was the opening door for her to claim her status and recognition as an accomplished, talented artist. I was so excited for her that I could hardly contain myself. I decided that this was a moment for immediate celebration.

I slapped on a little lipstick, grabbed my purse, and raced to the garage. Then I yanked the car door open, jumped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the car door shut like an exclamation point. I pressed the ignition button, put the car in reverse to back out, and, pedal to the metal, I was rarin’ to go!

I was backing up, backing up, backing up when I heard and felt a BOOM! Holy guacamole, what was that?

I looked around and realized that sound was me backing my car out of a garage without first pressing the button to open the garage doors… and blowing out the garage-door panels!

I was shaken and horrified that I had been so absentminded as to forget to open the garage door. I was pretty sure my husband was going to have something to say about it, too.

I hopped out of the car and was relieved to discover that I was able to jury-rig the panels back into the garage door so they looked normal. I covered up the crime scene, got back into my car, and left.

That evening, before I got home, my teenage son had been occupying his bored self with a game of solo catch to which, in the past, I had given my stamp of non-approval. His game was to throw a baseball against the garage doors as hard as he could and then catch the ball when it rebounded.

Countless times, I had caught him in the act playing this game and hissed at him to stop. Didn’t he know that he was depreciating the beauty of our home with those ugly dents that ball was making on our garage doors? I knew he knew that it made me upset when he played ball against the garage doors. And that made me even more upset.

But this

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