Little m Long a

The van had a button.  Things were pretty easy.  You want the back lift-gate open?  Press a button.  You want the back lift-gate shut?  Press the button again.  Easy.

We don’t have the van anymore.

In all honesty, that is the only feature I miss about that van when compared to our new vehicle.  Well, new is kind of stretching it.  It was new to us in June.  New to us I have to say because the actual newness of the vehicle wore off some two years earlier when it was in fact at that time a new vehicle.

The lift-gate is not automatic.

It’s not really that big of a deal.  I mean, though having an automatic button for your lift-gate is a rather convenient feature to have in an automobile, so is the built in satellite radio or the dvd player.  The Dolby surround system.

We make sacrifices.

Besides, Zoë has become rather adept at closing the lift-gate on her own.  She climbs into the back of the vehicle, grabs the looped strap that hangs from the bottom of the lift-gate and jumps.  To her, its’ a game and she’s pretty nimble at it.

Maybe too nimble.

For you see, Zia having noticed how easily Zoë is able to climb into the back of the vehicle, grab the looped strap that hangs from the bottom of the lift-gate and jump felt that she should likewise be able to close the lift-gate unassisted.

And so she did.

Zia climbed into the back of the vehicle, grabbed the looped strap that hangs from the bottom of the lift-gate and jumped.  She may have pulled as well.  Actually,  I’m not quite sure of the entire sequence of events but I do know that something went terribly awry.

She came into the house screaming holding her hand cupped beneath her nose.  A nose that was dripping the most brilliantly colored red blood I have seen in quite some time.

She tried to explain but it was very difficult to understand what with all of the crying and blood and such.

After great length, and much cleaning, I was able to ask exactly what had happened.  She began her story with, “Well Zoë does it and she……”

And before I could catch myself, before I even knew what was happening, I became my mother.  Incarnate.  Her voice emanating from me.

“Well, Zoë is an idiot!  If  she jumped off of the roof would you do that, too?!”

I laughed when I heard myself, thinking that the laughter might set things a bit back at ease.  I think it came off as more of a maniacal, dad’s really snapped here kind of thing.  I battled some old ghosts and they wisely kept their distance for a while.

Yesterday we took Zia to her pediatrician for some x-rays.  He said that he would call me with the results but as of this evening, I still haven’t heard anything.  I’m sticking with the old adage that no news is good news.

But I’d Swear That Thing is Broken

Oh, and in case you were worried….

The lift-gate is fine.