Among other things - Don't forget to forgive
This story may or may not be true but it is a clear message of the danger of carrying a grudge and the need to forgive. I remembered it from a seminar I attended years ago.
A man and his wife were preparing for the day’s activities. He had a reputation for being a practical joker and had the day off. His wife was running way late in leaving for work. To help speed things along, she asked her husband to zip up the back of her dress.
Not a good idea.
He started to comply but suddenly began to work the zipper up and down, up and down, up and down and … oops, the zipper got stuck.
“That’s not funny; I’m already going to be late for work,” she snarled. The zipper stayed stuck and by the time she extricated herself and selected another dress from the closet and found an appropriate color shoes, she was really fuming.
“Gosh, I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, as his wife slammed the door and headed for the car in the garage. She backed the car into the street and screeched the tires as she sped off to her office job. Just four blocks later, she glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a police car with lights flashing, siren sounding and the officer motioning to her to pull over.
After the routine of checking driver’s license, car registration and proof of insurance, the officer issued her a traffic ticket for speeding. Now she was another 15 minutes late … and angrier.
At the office, co-workers noticed that she was obviously upset. It was one of those very bad, horrible, terrible, nothing went right work days as she thought of ways to get even with her husband.
On the drive home, she kept thinking of revenge. “I don’t know what, or how, but he’ll be sorry,” she mused.
As she pulled into the driveway, access to the garage was block by the husband’s car and she noticed a man on his back working under the car, his work pants visible from the waist down. She just knew it was her husband.
“Hah! Now I know what I’ll do. Give him a dose of his own medicine,” she thought. She reached down, grabbed the top of the fly on the pants and started zipping it up and down, up and down.” She heard a groan and a metal wrench drop to the pavement under the car.
Feeling somewhat satisfied at getting even, she went into the house … that’s when she heard the refrigerator door close. She looked – there was her husband opening a can of pop at the counter.
She exclaimed, “But … what … where …. who ….the car … who?”
He replied, “Oh, that’s George, our neighbor from down the street, he’s helping me put a new muffler on the car. I was just getting something for him to drink.”
“Oh, no,” she gasped, grabbing his arm and hollered “Quick, come with me!”
They ran out to the driveway and heard more moaning. They held George’s legs and pulled him out from under the car.
George groaned and sat up, rubbed his forehead, blinked rapidly, and said groggily, “I don’t know what happened. I was just workin’ on that muffler and suddenly someone started runnin’ the zipper on my fly up and down, up and down. I tried to sit up and bumped my head.”
I’m not sure how the couple explained to George who did what or why. I can only think of what some poet said, “There’s nothing to gain by trying to explain.”