Wisdom from Leftover Easter Ham

Remember when I wrote about the persistent egging in my side of the neighborhood? How frustrated I was and how I felt like the unluckiest person in the world for being such a frequent victim?

Well, I kind of want those eggs back, especially after what happened today.

I had a long, exhausting, but pretty okay day at work. I couldn't wait to get home, continue reading The Scorch Trials at an unnecessarily and dangerously quick rate, and relax. So this afternoon, as I finally parked my car after a long day's work, Ellie Goulding CD on full blast, I see my brother-in-law heading towards my car. I turn off the ignition switch and open the door, and brother-in-law greets me with, "Did Christopher's car get broken into?"

Source

(not Christopher's car, but looks damn close)

Shit.

I see shattered glass all over the driver's side of my husband's car, his window completely gone except for a few crumbly bits hanging onto the frame like snaggletooth. I call him and as I see him walking out the gate, I immediately call the cops.

The officer arrived an hour later, a bit unimpressed as if broken car windows were a common occurrence in her job description. But she did look a bit sympathetic when she opened the car door and saw more shattered glass all over the rug and driver's seat. She takes down notes and mutters, "Dumbass kids."

Of course I knew she didn't mean us; she mentioned that, just recently, she did an entire roundup of similar car vandalisms apparently happening all over town--slashed tires, torn up convertible hoods, more egging and even more broken car windows.

"I don't see why they find pleasure in destroying other people's property", she grumbles. "The last time I was here at your street, old man next door had his mailbox blown to bits with fire crackers."

I asked her if there was anything we could to help prevent these things from happening. Motion detectors? Cameras?

"Just keep your car away from the street."

I don't blame her. I understand that cops can't be driving around town 24/7 looking out for petty crime. Sometimes I wish there was a group of them specializing in 'egg checkpoints', writing up tickets for suspicious possession of eggs. But in this town, there just isn't enough manpower.

We don't have our own garage, but our brother-in-law and his wife, who own the house we are renting, basically moved mountains (i.e., garage storage) to give both Chris and I space to park our cars somewhere safe. This made me realize that, despite our consistent streak of bad luck these days, Chris and I are blessed and well taken cared of.

It sucks, for sure. Having that kind of damage fixed will cost us at least a couple hundred big ones. Accidents and surprises like that do happen to everyone, and it will definitely mess up our usual monthly budget carefully set for bills and food.

But tonight, we had a feast of a meal -- I re-fried some amazing ham from Easter, with a side of dad-in-law-approved (a.k.a., Mexican style) potatoes and onions, fried eggs, and tortillas.

In other words, we may consider ourselves quite unlucky, but the unlucky streak just keeps getting balanced out with blessings and great fortune we often take for granted.

Times like these, when things seem to go just one way (i.e., downhill), try counting your blessings. Know that, no matter what, there will always be at least one person looking out for you. In our case, there's two--thanks, Mike and Amy!

And of course, when all else fails, stop and smell the re-fried ham and potatoes from Easter. They are made of yum.