Armchair Pundits

Daddy Got Run Over By A Reindeer (well, sort of)

Perhaps that is somewhat of a reach. After all, reindeer don't inhabit these parts do they? Mmm...I wonder.

Imagine traveling four and half hours in your van with your wife and three children. Destination--South Dakota. Objective--a weekend of festivity and merriment. Date--Wednesday the 24th. Now that the context has been firmly established, harken back to that second sentence. Let that sink in for a moment. Three children, four....and......a......half.....hours. A root canal is less excruciating. That being said, on this fine day in question, the troops were strikingly well-behaved. Usually, by this point, I would be trying to wad kleenex in my ears and praying for the relief an impending eardrum rupture would bring. Either that, or stare in horror as my brown head of hair turned white before my very eyes. But as stated, the kids were uncharacteristically calm. The decibel level on the Andy Williams chorus [they were singing] was just right. Remarkable really.

At approximately 5:30pm, and two miles from our ultimate destination of Casa Sprung; the wife leans forward and calmly says, "You know....now that the sun's down, the deer are going to be difficult to spot." I responded in kind, admonishing the need to watch the ditches more closely. No more than 1 minute transpires when Dancer himself decided to make an early holiday appearance. I am not sure what he was thinking, but perhaps he heard Santa's voice beckoning him to the "bright lights." Suffice it to say, Dancer's antlers met with the blunt end of our van. Yes, the carol is true. Reindeer really do know how to fly. And Dancer promptly illustrated this by accelerating right toward my windshield and on into the night. Ah, the wonder of physics! The joy of flight without any of the Christmas magic!

As our van came grinding to a halt, I found myself in sheer amazement. Weren't we just talking about this? One by one, all family members checked in. Everyone was fine. No crying. Utterly amazing. The kids were a bit shocked and inquired as to what happened. A moment of gratitude in prayer. "Daddy hit a deer" I replied. Well, a buck to be exact, or so it appeared. As I got out to inspect the damage, I tried to stay positive but shook my head in disbelief. Light fixtures--gone. Grill--smashed. Bumper and hood--cracked. Air conditioning condesor/compressor or whatever-the-heck-it-is --punctured & oozing. The radiator's fate--uncertain. You can see where this is headed. "Stupid deer" I muttered, as I quickly summed up the damage into a four figure early Christmas gift. When the officials arrived, the requisite report was made and the search for Dancer began. To my stupefication, he was no where to be found. The satisfaction I would get from eating this beast was fading quickly. All was not lost however, as I recovered a segment of antler from the ditch edge. But where could he have gone? After all, I was travelling nearly 55 mph! Could this be a little Christmas magic?

I returned to the van about the same time my mother in-law arrived to transport the wife and kinder to Casa Sprung. As Matthew, climbed out of the van and purveyed the damage, he said quite matter-of-factly, "Dad, if the mechanic says we need a new van, we'll have to obey." Oh the innocence of childhood! With this kind of attitude, he will grow up to be a sales person's best dream. Of course, I still have time to teach him the workings of commerce. A sobering reminder of how blessed we are. Another quick prayer of thanks.

In the meantime, if you see a one antlered reindeer come December 24th -- beware the gift that accompanies him.

posted by Grisby @ 7:38 PM