Time tends to become irrelevant on vacation, yet can still
be a point of curiosity. The clock on the dashboard of the 1997 Chevy Tahoe
read 4:56, as we left our morning jaunt to the beach. We had no idea how many
hours and minutes to add or subtract for the correct time. We reserved our
higher math skills for interpreting the tide chart. My stomach was growling,
but that was not necessarily a reliable indicator that an actual meal was
approaching. As we rumbled down
the road, packed into the slightly shaky and mighty sandy beach mobile, with a
sun-bleached crab as our compass, I asked around for the time. It was 12:28,
and thankfully lunch was in fact near.
My father provided an elaborate explanation of why the clock
was off, and how the battery was no longer being drained during dormant times.
We all understood, but I seemed to be the only one interested in why the clock
was never reset. I took matters into my own hands, no pun intended, as the
clock was digital. My declaration of success was interrupted by my brother’s
voice from the back seat.
“I bet you that in twenty-four hours the time is wrong
again.”
“Excuse me?” (Did he think I couldn’t set a clock?)
Suddenly my husband’s voice chimed in, “I’ll take that bet.”
I felt a small sense of pride that my husband supported me,
but felt compelled to double check. “Whose side are you betting on?”
“I’m with Mike.”
Clearly these men were blind to the fact that I bet against
myself all the time. I found myself offended by the thought that they did not
think I could accurately set those straight lined digits. I demanded to know
what was at stake. What did I stand to lose by siding with myself?
“One small order of onion rings.”
Oh the coveted Liam’s snack shack onion rings of Nauset
Beach…mmmmm. I paused to consider whether or not I would have to purchase two
orders if I lost, but then realized that if I won, two orders would be mine. I
needed to have some faith in myself.
“You’re on!”
My children could be heard muttering about their best
chances to be aligned with the victor. Any supportive words were merely a
selfish ploy to find their hands greasy with batter.
“I cannot believe you guys are betting against my ability to
set a clock!”
I swear I do not know how to take things, other than
personally, much of the time. I hid my surprise as I slowly began to understand
that they were betting against the car. I was so gung-ho to stand up for myself
that I failed to grasp the notion that I had put my chances for fried delight
in the dashboard of a sixteen-year old tank.
I started sputtering exceptions and exclusions like, “If any young children are seen in the
front seat of this car in the next twenty-four hours, all bets are off!” I felt
a little thrill at the risk I had taken, while realizing this meant I should
probably get out more often.