Gotcha! Part Two

Gotcha! Part Two--Beach Gate

Prov. 16:18

James 4:6

He wasn’t listening to a dang word I was saying. Our beach vacation was just starting; the AllieCat found this gorgeous Italian Villa at beautiful Seagrove Beach, FL. We were across 30-A from the ocean, and there was a private gate just down the road for beach access. I was describing the approximate location; I had not seen it personally, but told SteveO the landmark.

He was basically irritating me, interrupting my time on this huge sofa…I wanted to relax, drink my Beach Java, and read. Vacation to me is not necessarily frying in 100 degree heat with the white sand searing your pupils and blistering your toes.

Five minutes later, the cell phone rings…”Dad, I am still walking...I can’t find the gate.”

Ah…one of my famous nuclear explosions. “I KNEW YOU DIDN’T LISTEN TO A THING I SAID! DADGUM IT, BOY!”

Very matter of fact, Stephen interrupts, “Dad... I’m calling Mom” (She was already enjoying the broiler on the sugar white sands of the Florida Panhandle.)

“Good decision, young squire!” was my curt reply.

Five minutes and the tinge of guilt….not willing to call him, I call his Mama, inquiring the status of our clueless son. “YES, HE FOUND THE GATE,” was the answer to my question… (Oh boy, here it comes).

“Mark, we are on vacation. How about lightening up, just a little? Was it all that necessary?” Gulp. Checkmate, AllieCat, aka Debra Barone.

“I’ll be down at the beach in a few,” I replied with a trailing voice, aka Ray Barone.

I cross the road and began to think about how unnecessary the whole thing really was. The more I thought about it, the further I walked….until I realized that I probably had outpaced Stephen’s goof by a good 100 yards! I spin on a dime, muttering and cussin’ to myself…and then I hear it, a chuckle in my soul.

“Gotcha! Now go repent to your son, that is, if you have enough sense to find the gate!”

Ah, the words of laughter from my Father who loves me. What could I do? Another checkmate. I found SteveO and his Mom under a beach umbrella and explained my bumbling journey, and offered a complete apology.

I would have liked to have sent those two smirky-pants to Iceland for a day right then, and smacked them both on the fanny to boot, as they took great delight in Dad’s latest game of “What Goes Around, Comes Around”. Again, what could I do…one Hatter receiving a kick in the old prideful clacker was enough for this day.

Keep playing your jokes on me, Lord; it lets me know that you love me in spite of me!

Mark the Mad Hatter
Prov 17:22