I recently read that 25% of all children live in a home with only one biological parent. More startling, while 18% of white children are in those one parent families, 35% of Hispanic children and over 50% of black children are growing up in the broken family model. Some kids are better off that way, of course, but doesn't that sound like we've lost a couple wheels off the wagon as a society? On the other hand, some wagons belong in the junkyard.
When I got married, I thought he was Prince Charming, and life would be happily ever after. But a funny thing happened on the way to the castle - Prince Charming threw a shoe and rode away with someone else's horse, and I wasn't Cinderella, either. More like the forgotten step-sister, holding a broken glass, which believe me, was definitely half empty.
So how does it feel to be the peasant, watching the royal family from afar? I have to be honest, it's not as bad as it sounds. That old saying, be careful what you wish for, because you might get it, could turn out to be the truth. Just ask the girl who rode away in the glass carriage. The carriage turned into a pumpkin, and Prince Charming? Well, he turned out to be a rat, now in someone else's trap. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
And speaking of driving away, cars should have been the first sign that my marriage was crashing against the rocks on the beach. The first wave? A little red Porsche, ten years old, driven only in sunny weather, with slippers on the wheels. Okay, no slippers, but supposedly well taken care of. Should have checked under the hood, genius.
That was only the first in a succession of many fancy cars, too many to keep track of over the years. They came, they went, we never knew what we would find parked in the garage on any given day. They came in a rainbow of hues, with a variety of styles, but most of them had some little... quirks, which made dealing with them a challenge.
One car, in particular, stands out in my mind. It was a "kit car," built on a frame to look like something it wasn't. Which isn't a metaphor, but certainly could be. Anyway, this silver fake Lamborghini had a number of problems, including missing window frames, the wrong wheels, damaged paint, and a security system with a mind of its own. I called the car Hal, because it was definitely in charge. (If you require explanation for that literary reference, you need to stop reading blogs online and go to the library. Seriously.)
One morning, when Mr. Buff was heading off to his 4 a.m. work out, he set off the car alarm. This horn was not your average, run of the mill car horn. It was like a tornado siren, and it raised the alert throughout the neighborhood. I have to admit, that might have been the one time I ever saw him wish for less attention.
And speaking of having a mind of its own.... Well, it wouldn't turn off. That alarm went on and on and on, despite all of his frantic attempts to shut it down. Finally, when everyone within four square blocks was aware that he had that car, the alarm turned itself off for no apparent reason. Daggers were thrown in our direction from all sides for days after that fiasco. Which I must say is pretty embarrassing when you're out there in the yard in your jammies with your frilly little dog first thing in the morning.
But that car wasn't done with us. The most entertaining incident was the debacle of the locking doors. For some reason, Mr. Brilliant never had more than one key for any car, so it was critical that the key never got left in the car. Which of course means he always left his key in the car. One evening, he went out to caress his new love when he realized the doors were locked and the key was in the ignition.
Now, this was a pretty fancy car, and it had a pretty fancy security system, apparently designed by Houdini. One of the main features was that if you used a remote to lock the door, then you had to have a remote to unlock it again. If you used a key to lock the door, a key was required to unlock. There was no other way, no buttons on the door, no remote would work, nothing. So it was quite a conundrum, one which was obviously my fault, since I pointed it out. Naturally, having recognized the problem, it became my job to solve it.
The system was supposed to be fool proof, which certainly should have excluded my ex from owning the car in the first place. The alarm, which as you may recall was not exactly discrete, went off at the slightest provocation, and I was provoked. So within short order, the alarm was resounding throughout the neighborhood, alerting the masses that Hal was back; our family had been outsmarted once again by a machine. Lights flashing, horn sounding - I felt like Madonna in a stage show gone bad. And in the middle of it all, I simply could not stop myself from laughing, because the whole thing was so absurd, it was funny.
Ultimately, with some creativity, a fishing pole, and my daughter's very small arm, we got the keys out of the window, unlocked the door, and got the alarm turned off. The kids and I went into the house, leaving the grief stricken lover to wipe down the carcass after the kill. The kids and I agreed that night, you should never have a car smarter than you are. That kind of excitement we don't need.
And sometimes, Cinderella is better off outside the castle walls. Because if you are living in a fairy tale, chances are, you won't live happily ever after.
