Sunday after worship, the big kids decided to walk back to my parents’ house with “Grammy and Pop-Pop” so I headed out to the van with only Elijah. I had the diaper bag backpack, my purse, a folder that held my teaching notes, and the stainless travel coffee mug that is my faithful companion most days. Oh, and of course my one-year-old who is now sharing clothes with Aaron. Needless to say, my hands were full.
I have a habit of setting the tall coffee mug up on the roof of the van while I buckle the baby into his seat. It rests perfectly inside the rails that hold the Thule top on our van, and this frees my hands to load things into place.
After securing everyone and everything, I slipped behind the wheel, latched my own seat belt, backed out of my parking space and drove to the parking lot exit. As I turned the van onto Ashworth, a large thud was heard right outside the van, and there was the sound of something heavy bouncing along the street.
I slammed on the breaks, and before I could even throw the van into reverse, a little voice from behind me declared: “Coffee!”