Has this ever happened to you?

You have to get somewhere, but you’re running late. Maybe it’s to grab a late lunch. At lunch prices. You know, before the same plate of chicken parm suddenly doubles in price because now it comes with a salad and a cloth napkin and is called “dinner.”

So, there you are, sitting at a traffic light with about 12 minutes left to get there and place your order. The light is going to turn green, and it’ll finally be your turn.

Except here comes the first car in a funeral procession.

A painfully slow procession of 127 cars.

What are the chances???

Yup. “What are the chances???”

Have you ever said that to yourself? Or out loud? Maybe with some swear words thrown in?

I hear it a lot. Let me explain.

My mom says that all the time. Even my cousin, The Cabbage Kid, says it. And then he usually adds, “Aunt Debbie, you have the worst luck. And your timing’s pretty bad, too.”.

You see, last time she was in The Land of Cabbage she went to pull out of their driveway. On a rural road in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of cabbage fields. And, at the exact moment she’s about to step on the gas and enter the road, a runner comes out from behind the bush by the mailbox and trots right in front of her.

Someone running. And not even a bear or donut truck in sight.

What are the chances?

I remember another incident like it was yesterday.

My mom was going to take me for a walk down the trails near where we used to live. It was our special place. We hopped into the little red truck and took off.

She got to the trailhead and was about to park in the grassy little spot that only holds three cars, when BAM! A guy suddenly zipped out of the trail on his riding mower, like he was flying around the track at Daytona and proceeded to mow the grassy little spot.

Which was really nothing but dead grass.

My mom hesitated, then looked behind her and saw a car flying up the road. Before he had a chance to slam into her mostly shiny, almost new bumper, she decided to turn down the road on her right.

The car that was coming up behind her also turned right. He sped up and within seconds was tailgating her.

That’s when I heard her mutter.

Okay, I’m kind of deaf. But I saw her grip the steering wheel and the veins in her hands start to bulge. And the one on her forehead. I knew she was saying something. Unpleasant.

She put her blinker on and turned left, down a dead end so she could circle around.

The car followed her. Closely. And it followed her all the way down the road, until it turned into the last driveway before the cul-de-sac.

She shook her head and muttered some more, but I figured it was okay. By now the guy on his mower would have moved on to a different patch of dead grass and in a few moments we’d park.

I was getting pretty excited. I really needed to pee and that was our special place. Did I mention that? I got to smell deer and other critters, and we almost always had the place to ourselves during the week.

My mom reached the road and turned towards the trailhead. And I bet you’ll never guess what we saw.

Three cars were parked there, taking up all three spots of dead grass.

More than a year later my mostly deaf little ears are still burning from what I heard her yell.

So what does this mean for you?

Humans always say timing is everything. And, especially according to realtors, so is location.  But here’s the thing. They go hand in hand. My mom couldn’t be in the right spot at the right time to save her life.

Sometimes little dogs have that problem too. Pee at the right time in the right spot and you get a treat. Mess up the timing and you end up peeing in the wrong spot. Like the living room rug. And the last thing you’re getting is a treat.

Trust me, I know this. Personally.

Those are the times I look at my mom and say, “You picked up my wee-wee pads and decided to wash the floor at the EXACT moment my little kidneys were about to burst. “

What are the chances?”