Bring Back Big Families

Today was one of those days where the universe seemed to have a personal vendetta against me, but somehow, it all ended up okay because of the people who matter most.

It started with a jolt on the way to church. I was in the right side of a dual turn lane, minding my own business, when, out of nowhere, someone smashed into me. A minor fender bender, surely, thankfully, as the impact not even enough to rouse my oldest son from the book he was reading in the back seat, but enough to leave my side mirror dangling like a loose tooth and some ugly scuff marks on the paint. Thankfully, everyone was fine, no injuries, just a bruised ego of the other driver and a couple of cars that looked like they had been in a bar fight. I exchanged info with the other driver, who was apologetic but clearly frazzled (“I don’t know what happened,” he said. I do; he thought there was only one turn lane, and I paid the price for that. My wife and I cringe every time we go through this intersection as people just can’t seem to understand how it works. I won’t be making that mistake again. Lesson learned), and we went our separate ways. I sighed, said some unpleasant things in my head about what happened, already sensing the day was going to test me.

But the universe wasn’t done with me. At one of our usual after church stops, a stranger hovered around near me as I waited for my wife to arrive. He needed to use my phone to call a buddy. So I let him. And that turned in to me buying him some food because he said he was hungry. What he didn’t say was how picky he was. I was grateful to buy him food (Matthew 25:40), but after getting my car smacked around, I wasn’t in the mood for him to take his dear, sweet time deciding on a sandwich and a taco to go along with his drink. I shook his hand and wished him luck telling him I’d pray for him as we left. Patience tested again.

Back at the car in the blazing sun, I attempted a MacGyver moment, taping the broken mirror back on with some duct tape I borrowed from my son’s survival bag (that’s a whole other story for another day 😂). It was a temporary fix, but it’d get me through. Or so I thought. Not even an hour later, it gave way. So back at it I went, with gorilla tape this time. That seemed to do the trick, at least long enough to get me to Walmart to pick up a few things we needed.

In the Walmart parking lot, as if enough hadn’t already happened, I was nearly run over by a distracted driver who didn’t notice me crossing right there, you know, in the crosswalk, where people cross in the parking lot. I jumped out of the way, heart pounding again, and thinking something I’m not proud of, again. The driver didn’t even stop to apologize or even wave. I muttered under my breath and moved on, because what else can you do?

Then came the birthday party for my oldest son’s friend. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he’s got buddies at his new school, but I wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend my afternoon at a kid’s birthday party. I put on a smile, made small talk with other parents, and counted down the minutes until we could leave. By the time we got home, I was ready to call it a day (it was nice that dinner was ready when I got home, thanks to my wife!), only to remember the kitchen sink leaking for some unknown reason. Of course. Nothing like a leaky faucet to cap off the madness. Just add that to my ever-growing to-do list.

I was/am exhausted. But the day was not a total loss. Thankfully.

The only salvation to an otherwise Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day (I feel you, Alexander!) was the Czech Heritage Festival.

Let me tell you, it was a highlight in the chaos. I bit into the best poppyseed kolache I’ve ever had, flaky, sweet, every bite a sort of salve for the day (I don’t care what anyone says: poppyseed kolcahes will be served immediately upon entering heaven’s gates). The Czechaholics were blaring polka music, and for a moment, watching people twirl and laugh under the festival dome, I forgot about the car. My kids and wife were tapping their feet, munching on snacks, and I couldn’t help but grin. Sometimes, a good kolache and some polka music are enough to reset your soul.

Through all of this—the fender bender, the near-miss in the parking lot, the birthday party chaos, and the sink that just won’t quit leaking—my family was my anchor. They reminded me that these little disasters don’t define the day. They’re just noise. The real stuff is in the moments we share, the way we hold each other up when the world seems determined to knock us down.

Today was a mess, but with my family by my side, it’s a mess I can handle.