The Curious Case of the Broken Passenger Side Window

I don't know how many single parents read this blog, but if you are one like me, I want you to recognize that you have an amazing talent: You can fix anything.

I raise 5 kids on a single income so I understand not only the value of the American dollar, but also how to stretch that sucker until Mr. Washington has a migraine. It's a necessary skill. Even now that I make decent money, I still don't like being broke, so I try to make the things that I purchase last.

Personally, I have become an expert on minor car repairs and vacuum cleaners. Between watching my dad fix things when I was young, and the miracle technology of YouTube, I’m set. I have revived more vacuum cleaners than I would like to admit. My kids have horrid housekeeping skills. And on 2 of my past vehicles, I became a master at finessing the passenger side doors up and down, respectively.

But very, VERY soon this will be labeled as a “past problem” because I’m going to have a fully-loaded Ford Flex (speaking it into the atmosphere).

Anyway, the past few weeks, especially since it hasn’t been so cold, I have been whining about my window. I got this one up but forgot to unplug it, so my daughter tried to let it down. Once she heard the shrill yell of my voice, she released the lever, but not before it been let down a smidge. So it’s cracked. Not cracked Open enough to get wet when it rains and barely open enough to be noticeable, but it’s open enough to whistle on the express way, every morning and every night.

So annoying.

It’s been a thorn in my flesh, but not a big enough albatross that’s I’ve taken the time to fix it. I’ve been putting it off and putting it off, only taking the time to pay attention to it when I have to turn the music up ridiculously loud to cover the whistling while I’m driving to work.

This past weekend, I sent my son Three outside to get something from my car and when he came back in, he was crying hysterically. My first thought was to grab my box cutter and run out the door, but my good judgment caused me to pause. “I LOCKED YOUR KEYS IN THE CAR! I’M SO SORRY!!!”

He‘s the emotional one.

I went outside and tried all of the doors and, he was right. All doors locked and my keys nestled in my driver’s side seat.


i called a few locksmiths and found that it would cost me $150 and take 3 hours, I turned on my Macguyver skills. I let out a few tears first, but I’m sure that’s understandable. I grabbed a wooden spoon, a sphygmomanometer (from my time in nursing school) and a wire hanger. Since this happened before, I had seen it done my a couple of locksmith.

With my trusty sidekick, my youngest daughter Mo, and gross determination not to have to spend $150, I walked outside with the full intention of making this happen No matter what.

I walked around the car l, inspecting all of the doors and windows, I said, “HEY! ISN’T THIS THE WINDOW THAT ISN‘T CLOSED???” I startled my daughter and quickly shushed myself, looking around to make sure no one heard me. Sure enough, the sliver of the open passenger side door was barely noticeable, but open nonetheless! I opened the wire hanger, slid it into the window and pulled up the lever. BAM! Window open!!!!

*Insert Happy Dance here*

Why did I tell you this story? What’s the meaning of the fable?

Well, in this isolated incident, my procrastination skills paid off. IF I had forced myself to fix the window, I would have had to spend $150 getting the door popped.

Even though I've been all over myself about following through and cutting back on the procrastination, in this case, it was a welcomed attribute. But also, God knows that He’s doing.


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