A few years ago I was in the market for a new vehicle. I was having a slight middle age crisis and was wanting a sports car. Sweetly, my husband decided to help me search and drove home one day with a new camaro out in front of our home for me to test drive. Surprised and excited, I jumped at the chance (along with our children.) I must pre-empt this story with the fact that when I test drive a car I really push down the gas pedal to see what it will do if I need to hurry. And I also want to see how fast it will go. Okay, so maybe I visualize myself as a Nascar driver and – well, you get the point right? So, off we go, the kids and I, in the new camaro to see how it test drives. Immediately, I drive out of our neighborhood and head towards the nearest on ramp to the highway with the 70MPH. As I am stomping on the gas pedal (pedal to the medal right?) I immediately realize two things. Number one, my husband has tried to trick me by bringing home the 6 cylinder instead of the fast camaro and Number two – this car doesn’t have enough pick up to be considered a sports car. I still got on it and pushed the vehicle to 100 mph – all the while my two boys were nervous and scared while my daughter was smiling and laughing about it. Well, I finished the test drive, unimpressed and claustrophobic because the new camaro has quite the visually impaired small interior (i.e. I couldn’t see out well and the space was cramped.) Once we got that straight with my husband he decided he would take me to test drive a real sports car. The boys declined to go along (scaredy cats) but Tara was delighted to tag along. This time we went to a Dodge dealership and test drove the Challenger, with the biggest engine they put out – when I started the car it had the loud, growling rumble that just begs a person to stomp down on the accelerator. Mmmmhhh, this is good thought I. It did seem a bit big for me (I am only 5’2″, I kinda needed to stretch my leg in order to stomp on the gas pedal) but it was still a fun drive. On the way back to the dealership while stopped a red light some teenage boys pulled up beside us in an old Dodge pickup truck. They looked over at the orange and black striped Dodge Challenger and saw how the hood was large enough to hold the big dog engine and immediately started smiling at us. Then they started revving their engine and laughing. I knew what they wanted – they wanted to see how their old Dodge engine would hold up to this new one I was driving, and how fast we could make it to the next light about a half mile down the road. As they revved their engine and slobbered over our car I glanced behind, beside and in front of us to make sure there were no cops and no vehicles in my way. When Tara saw me looking around she got excited but my husband just said, “uhhhh” not believing what he thought I might do. When the light turned green I was ready and I stomped down on the gas pedal with that engine growling and rumbling and held onto the steering wheel with both hands as we shot forward and past and then way past the truck beside us. The whole time Tara was hooting and hollering “Go Mama Go! woo hoo!” She loved every minute of it. By the time we stopped at the next light I was smiling from ear to ear and buzzing from the adrenaline rush of pure speed. I glanced over at the truck we had raced and the boys in it were smiling just as big and whooping and hollering “Woo hoo!” They loved it too. Then, I glanced over at my husband who was sitting stock straight, tight and glaring and when he looked at me with his dark piercing eyes I said “I’m not gonna get this car am I?” He paused for effect before he grimaced and said, “No, I don’t think so.” That’s okay though – it was truly worth the ride!
I told that story to tell another one. Recently, after dinner with a couple from church we were sitting around the table talking when Robert shares the above said story and I noticed the couple laughing a little harder than the story called for. That’s when they fessed up. You see, this couple lives out in the country so they have to drive into town for church. With multiple children and activities going on they usually have to take two separate vehicles to church. After explaining this they laugh a little harder and then admit “WE RACE TO CHURCH!” Oh yes. A parent and one or two kids in one vehicle verses the other parent and one or two kids in the other- and they mix it up sometimes by taking different routes – but always the goal is to be the first vehicle to church. I cracked up laughing with them – I thought this sounded like fun. I don’t think my husband enjoyed this story as much as I did (Probably because of my Speedy Gonzalez ways) but to me this sounded like great fun as well as a wonderful way to get the kids excited about going to church. Instead of dragging out of the house on Sunday mornings there would be feet racing out the doors. After all, ‘The family that prays together, stays together.’ BUT: The family that races to church together, well, they get there quicker! ha ha.