It’s no secret, I’m a goof ball. My family knows it, most of my friends know it. I do things like wear shirts wrong side out in front of VIPs, get “stuck” in elevators forgetting to push the buttons, think bald eagles are really bald (I mean, why do they call them bald if they’re not bald), and put cell phones in sock drawers. Goof ball.

This week was a 2X goof.

Meaning to surprise a friend with a loaf of homemade sourdough and jar of honey, I surprised someone… I don’t know who. I left the gift on a front porch. Complete with a personal card, heartfelt thanks for sweet friendship, scripture verse, and a prayer for a happy weekend trip. I left it on the wrong porch. Goof ball.

Today I drove 15 minutes to the grocery, collected all the things I need for a family gathering tomorrow, waited in a 4 person line, watched the dollars multiply, and bagged the groceries. It turns out it’s smart to bring your debit card with you to the grocery. Ding dong. I drove 15 minutes back home to get the naughty card, 15 minutes again to rescue the homeless goods, and 15 more minutes home again. I spent an afternoon driving to and from the grocery store.

All I could do was laugh. I love to laugh. I really love it when people laugh with me, and at me. I can’t wait to blab it, exaggerate it, gesture it, and slam dunk it with, “Can you believe it?”

Bill was my first audience. We would laugh and tease and laugh. Not only did he share the goof, he also rescued me in my predicaments. Today he would have paid my debt with his debit card, then load the bags and take the whole thing home for me.

Now my laughs have to find other willing hearers. My kids? Yip. They’ll roll a couple crinkled eyes. My mom? Yip. She’ll give me a heehaw. But I surely miss the gut splitters with the man who married a goof ball, and was proud of it.

LOL