And Now for the Rest of the Story...

I know you will surely be amazed to find that there could be more to the riveting story I shared last night about John-Heath getting wax stuck up his nose - but there is, my friends, there is.  It’s actually quite funny and on some level demonstrates what a small world (town) mine actually is. Be prepared.  It’s just a little longer than my normal posts.

So, two days ago when John-Heath informs me of the wax up his nose my first response (after initially verifying that, indeed, there was a chunk of wax in there) was to pull out the tweezers and attempt to pull out the wax.  After a couple tries I became a little worried that we might end up back at the ER and told John-Heath to breathe through his mouth.  He did...very heavily, sounding much like an asthmatic monster.  “Just breathe normally, John-Heath.”   I tried again and realized I wasn’t going to be able to get it out on my own and became fearful that it might get pushed/sucked back even deeper.  So, I decided to call my husband, who was somewhere in town on his lunch break.

I tried the local BBQ place.  No luck.  I was left with two non-fast food eateries at which he might be. Deciding against the Mexican restaurant, I called the local “meat n three”...

Me:  Hi.  This is Tyla C...  By any chance is my husband, John C., there?
Waitress:  I don’t know. Hang on...
Waitress:  (speaking to the people in the restaurant)  Is there a John C. here?  Okay, you have a phone call.
John:  Hello.
Me:  (rather excitedly) John, you need to come home.  He’s stuck wax up his nose and I don’t think I can get it out.
John:  (even more excitedly) Okay! I’ll be right...CLICK! (and he hangs up).

Well, for some reason right after this I thought I would try one last time to dislodge the wax myself and, what do you know, it came out!  So, I immediately called the restaurant again.

Me:  Hi.  This is Tyla C. again.  Is John C. still there?
Waitress:  No, he went running out the door.
Me:  Okay, thanks.

How sweet!  It made me feel lucky to have a husband who cared so much for his family and one who works so close to home.

Not wanting to delay him from his lunch any longer than he already was, John-Heath and I hopped in the car and drove to the end of the drive to meet him and tell him the emergency was over.

We waited.  And waited.  And waited some more. Hmmm. If he was running out the door, what was taking him so long? More waiting.

Finally, I thought we might drive to the high school.  Maybe Rick (his boss) had driven to lunch and was taking John back to the school to get his own vehicle.  When we didn’t see him there we headed back home.  Then as we topped one of the last hills on our road before you get to our drive I noticed Rick’s truck approaching us.  He flashed his lights and we both stopped in the road.  I rolled the window down, held up the tweezers (still clutching the chunk of wax), and said something about a crisis being averted.  They laughed, I told John I would see him when he got home, and we went in our different directions.

That night, as John and I sat on the porch upon returning home from our church’s VBS, he struck up a conversation about the day’s events and mentioned the wax.  

John:  So, he got wax stuck up his nose?
Tyla:  Yes, I’m sorry I bothered you during lunch but I was scared it was going to be a repeat of what happened with the coffee bean.  And by the way, why did you hang up on me so fast.  I wasn’t even finished telling you something.
John:  What are you talking about?  When did you talk to me?
Tyla:  When I called you during lunch?  What do you mean "when did you talk to me"?
John:  Did you call Cathy’s today?    note:  Cathy’s is the name of the local eatery
Tyla:  Yes, and I talked to you.
John:  Ohhhh.  That explains it.

You see, what happened is that John’s cousin, Shawne C., was sitting at the next table with his father and when the waitress called out for a “John C.” it must have sounded like “Shawne C.”.  I guess because I was talking so fast he didn’t realize that it wasn’t his wife’s voice he was hearing.  

Come to find out, he lit out of there lickety-split (leaving black tire tracks on the road, or so I’ve been told) and headed home in record time.  When he arrived - with a policeman right behind him who was prepared to give him a ticket for speeding, until he realized our cousin was heading home to what he thought was a family emergency - he found a wife surprised to see him.  Eventually, they just dismissed it as a bad practical joke someone must have played.  It wasn’t until we pieced the story together on our end and gave them a call that they knew it wasn’t a prank, just an amusing coincidence.  

Oh, and how was it that I met up with John and Rick on our road since I had never actually spoke to John and he had no idea of what John-Heath had done?  Again, pure coincidence. They had a few minutes to kill before they were due back to school and were just riding around. 

How’s that for a verse of "It’s a Small, Small World"?