Saturday night, for example, my mobile rang as I was sorting clothing to launder. The breathless voice of my younger neighbour began relating a situation involving the word 'emergency,' along with a request to borrow my small hand-held vacuum cleaner.
The long and short of it was that he and his partner had picked up some prepared chicken for dinner and were on their way home with the family dog when the younger of the two men spied a car at a dealer's and stopped to investigate. Apparently, both exited their car, leaving their Pomeranian mix and their intended supper alone together.
When they got back, predictably, the dog had up ended the container of chicken and had bits all over the car, which had to be cleared of detritus and cleaned, wiped down and coated with a leather protectant. When my friend said that they would make do with taking the skin off the pieces that had suffered the least damage, I advised him that eating anything that had had his dog's mouth around it wasn't a good idea and said certainly I would loan him the hand vac.
I did this while trying valiantly not to laugh at what was surely a sight to behold. It wasn't until I had clicked off that laughter overtook me and my young neighbour found me giggling when he came for the vacuum. He admitted that the whole incident was a silly mistake and soon, both of us were chuckling.
Their dog, who is usually well-behaved, suffered some digestive disturbance which was fortunately short-lived.
It is funny, but with age and perspective, my ideas about life's emergencies has shifted. Unless one is in danger of losing blood, a limb or the ability to breathe, little else qualifies as an emergency. In this case, I wasn't sure if the emergency referred to the car, their dinner or their dog, but all is well for now...
Until Next Time...