Keep Your Laugh On

Very few things can get me out of the house without flat ironing my hair first. I can hardly remember a moment when it has happened since the beloved flat iron entered my life. But this day was special and called for a quick jaunt out sporting my “natural” ‘do! For those who have not witnessed it, and sadly there are those who have had to see it, it is best described as... BIG! I believe I have a lineage tied back to the Chia Pet, it’s unconfirmed, but quite likely.

My good friend was going to her new home for its inspection before the loan would go through. She had called me and informed me that if I wanted a “pre-purchase peek” at the home, I would have to come over right away. The real estate agent and the house inspector were both there when I arrived. I had not anticipated seeing anyone except my friend, so I was immediately a little off my A game. I was overcompensating for my no make-up, chia pet hair by acting like I knew pretty much everything about houses... when I really knew nothing!

I felt like my “here to answer any of your questions” approach was going fairly well, and I was successfully drawing attention away from my hair. That was until the inspector announced that there was no key to check the gas shut off near the fire place. Being that I was now a walking encyclopedia of answers for all who needed help, I offered to run home and grab mine.

I had been living in my house for about seven years at this point and had faithfully kept the key on the mantel, just as any responsible homeowner would. Since I found the key unsightly, I always kept it hidden behind a vase, but faithfully dusted under it for over half a decade. When I got home, there was my key, just as it always was.

I quickly got back to my friend’s house and handed over the key. Chia Pet had just saved the day! To my dismay, though, the inspector and the realtor both informed me that this was NOT a gas shut off key, but a drum key! A drum key? We don’t have any drums! AND I have kept careful watch over this key for the past seven years!

A bit perturbed, I stood my ground and informed them that it was most definitely a gas key. I was relieved that my friend sided with Chia Pet woman on this one. I pressed my point with the two insistent men that the houses in my neighborhood must use a different type of key. To which they commented, they had never seen a gas key like this. One of them even said they were a drummer and this was in fact a drum key! I was unmoved, but starting to hear the Chia Pet jingle in my head... “Chi, Chi, Chi, Chia!” I felt the need to get back home and away from onlookers right away.

I grabbed my gas key and headed back home. Immediately I walked over to our emergency gas shut off to put the final blow on their ridiculous theory, when to my dismay... it was about five times too small! I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I replayed my adamant objections to the drum key theory. Where did this ridiculous thing come from! And why have I been coddling it for years! And why did I leave the house with a Chia Head! It just made the whole thing so much more humiliating!

I made the shameful admission to my friend and she enjoyed a great laugh at my expense and soon showed up at my door with a REAL gas shut off key. That key now sits on my mantel where Mr. Drum Key sat for so long.

The whole thing got me thinking about pride. What an ugly item to put on in the morning. I had dressed myself from head to toe in it that day and the results were anything but pretty. However, when we can come to the Lord and admit our weaknesses, our insufficiencies, our insecurities, and the fact that we don’t know the difference between a gas key and a drum key... He clothes us with grace, and that is truly beautiful (even if you are a Chia Head)!