Isn’t That What Boy Scouts Do?

Have you heard that old adage about how Boy Scouts always help little old ladies across the street?

Well, my husband, who has not been a Boy Scout for many years, got to live up to his old credo this past Saturday.

We were on our way back from dinner at Chili’s, where we had to wait 35 minutes just to be seated, even though it was BEFORE 5:00 p.m. That’s what happens when it’s the only decent sit down restaurant on the brand new burgeoning commercial corridor that is 173.

However, we did meet several nice couples while we were all jammed into Chili’s shamefully small waiting area. We were practically living in sin with these people, so it seemed courteous to introduce ourselves.

When we finally sat down, it was across from Rowdy Kid Town – which is actually not so noticeable at Chili’s – a nice feature. We had a good waitress, but she dropped Brett’s fajita dish on the floor, and it took ANOTHER 30 minutes to have it prepared.

Still, the food was delish, and we ran into Uncle Billy, Lina, and Billy’s brother whose-name-I-always-forget. I’m sure he thought I was rude, since I didn’t look at him once – on account of the fact I was trying really hard to remember his name.

Later, in the car, I slapped my head and said, “That’s right! It’s Gray. No wait, it’s Gary.”

Brett stopped me just short of congratulating myself by pointing out it was “Ray” and not “Gray” or “Gary.” He also argued with me that “Gray” is not a name.

It is SO a name!

Anyway, we were on a mission to get over to Mom and Gary’s (at least I know HIS name) to help Mom with some PC issues. As we sped down 251, we saw a sweet little old lady pulled over on the side of the road.

My hero pulled over, put his hazards on, and jumped out eagerly to help. He called the police, and then we waited about an hour and half for them to get there.

When the officer DID finally arrive, the poor guy looked so harassed. He apologized for being late. Turns out, right after our traffic call, he had to go break up a bar fight and then on his way to us, his car battery died. So, he had to get a tow, and then start all over again. He thanked Brett profusely for staying at the scene.

He did a little detective work and discovered someone had lost their muffler and our little old lady had run over it. This had caused her car to run off the side of the road, halfway into the ditch.

I marveled at my hubby as he stood for over an hour and a half – while it got dark – on the side of a major highway – chit chatting with this sweet old lady like she was the most interesting person in the world.

Sometimes, I just LOVE that man.

I stayed in the car (Brett told me the police don’t like more than two people on the side of the road, for safety sake) and listened to a conservative talk radio loony who proclaimed Hilary Clinton as the devil. If this guy ever meets the REAL devil, he’s got a big surprise coming.

Anyhoo, after the whole fiasco, we left our little old lady in the capable hands of the Roscoe police department and headed home.

Brett apologized for the delay, since he knew it was too late to head over to Mom and Gary’s. I told him I hope a nice man will stop and help if that ever happens to me.

Then I told him that besides being her hero, he was mine!