Monday, August 18, 2008


This story begins with the news that we decided it was time to buy a truck. You know, everyone else is freaking out and selling cars that use too much gas, so what does the Pate family do? Look for a gas guzzler. Don't worry, it is not for commuting, (which we really don't do) it is for a third car to use for hauling stuff. So our days of borrowing truck, trailers, etc. from everyone we know (thanks to both our dads, Eric, Jerrod, U-haul) are over.

(I won't claim to be trying to make a long story short, because if you have ever talked to me you know I have no idea how to do that.) We begin the search for a real beauty by looking on Craigslist. Andrew found one he liked in Salem, and we were on our way to the beach anyway, so he decided to take a look at it. He found out from the guy who owned it where it was parked (at another business that was open until 6) so he dropped the kids and I off at a pizza place to order and meet his parents. Andrew went to go and look at the truck. Our pizza order came and just as I was having the thought that it was funny that Andrew wasn't back yet my phone rang. He had driven in to look at the truck, and when he drove back out (the guy who owned it wasn't going to be there) someone had locked the gate. He and our van were locked behind a fence with barbed wire at the top. Great.

After about 40 phone calls, including calls to the police, we finally found someone who could come and unlock the gate. Andrew was locked up for a few minutes less than 2 hours when he was finally freeded. We could have used the bolt cutters to cut open the lock, but after giving our name to the police, we decided that would be a bad idea from a liability standpoint.

Being the great sport that my husband is, when I asked him to go get the camera out of the car and take a picture of the lock, he did it. (he was also thinking the possibility existed for him to turn this into a church opening)

Every time I called him to check on the progress he answered the phone Alcatraz.

This experience led to Arlene (Andrew's mom) telling the story that when Andrew was about Hudson's age they were standing in a line waiting to sign up for swimming lessons with tons of other people around and Andrew says in his loud voice, "Mommy, how many times has daddy been in jail?" Way to get rumors started. This led us to carefully explaining to the kids that we were just joking about daddy being in jail tonight. You know my kids would bring that up at some fabulous moment.

And, no, we didn't buy that truck.


Anonymous said...

What a story! I miss talking to you more. When will life slow down? Maybe we can meet somewhere (just us) for dinner or something soon?

Ally said...

I love it. Thanks for the laugh!

Jenne said...

Can't wait for Andrew's retelling of this at church some day. (Is this similar to the metaphor I have appreciated so much over the past year of being locked in the bathroom and "Daddy" won't let you out so you jus thave to sit in your mess and wait on the Lord?)

Tennille said...

That is awesome!!! What a great story!