Straight from the “No good deed goes unpunished” files:

Yesterday, LuAnn made a big pan of lasagna that we were taking to another family in town. She had kind of a rough day, and went to a lot of extra work (besides the normal chasing of children) to get the lasagna made. It smelled really good!

The plan was to load the kids in the van, deliver the dinner, then have enough time to go out to eat somewhere nice before our small group met. The “loading of the children” went smoothly, since 75% of them are mostly self-sufficiently functioning members of humanity now. But, as I opened the door from the patio to the driveway, the karmic malfunction began.

I didn’t so much feel gravity strike as I heard it. You’d never guess how deafening the sound of a foil pan with a thin plastic lid scraping its way down the garage wall to the sidewalk below could be! In an instant, it was over and there was nothing I could do to fight, hide, or fix the results of what happens when an entire pan of lasagna is completely given over to gravity’s hungry pull.

I so wished I could have said “April Fool’s” when LuAnn asked if that was the lasagna she just heard. “What have you done? Listen! The Lasagna’s blood cries out to me from the ground. Now you are under a curse and must drive to Sonic to pick up some burgers which you will not eat. But, alas, the road ahead will be full of slow traffic, slower carhops, and street blocking trains and you will be a restless wanderer in the land. And though you will inhale a hastily made sandwhich at Subway, yet will you be late.”