Not if I Tried

Some people would say: “What are the chances of that happening?” But there’s another phrase that is more apt for me: “If you were trying to do it, you wouldn’t be able to do it.”
A good example of this happened when one of our relatives bought a three-wheeler. He wanted to show it off, so he brought it over to my mom’s house. At this time, I was nineteen years old. And being at that wise age, I asked: “Can I drive it?” He immediately answered: “Sure. Hop on.” My mom raised her hands. “Wait a minute. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Naturally that didn’t sit too well with me. “And what not?” I asked. “I’ve had my driver’s license for three years and top of that I rode my bike around here when I was kid.” In my mind, enough was said. By the way, I was not using a disrespectful tone with my mother. I learned at a very early age that was not a smart thing to do. She pointed to the three-wheeler and politely informed me: “This machine is nothing like a bike or a car. Besides, you have a way of getting a little too carried away at times.”
As smart and capable as I thought I was, I should have known to take her reasoning into account, but I didn’t. In fact, my relative didn’t either for he said: “You’ve got this big open yard. I think it’ll be okay if she drives it around for a few. Why could she hurt?” Knowing she was outnumbered, Mom shrugged and warned: “Be careful and go slow.” I jumped onto it. “I will!” My relative showed me how to use the hand controls, gas, and brakes. I gave it a little gas and felt it lunge forward at a slow pace. After a few seconds, I decided to turn to the right. I tried, but it didn’t turn as easily as my bike had. So, I gave the handles a hard jerk to the right. Thinking I was heading toward the driveway, I gave it more gas. The next thing I know I was driving straight toward my old metal basketball post.
Before I had time to respond, I drove into the post with such force that the three-wheeler bounced back. My insides jarred from the impact. The front wheel almost rammed the post in dead center of it. At that point, I realized that if I had been trying to hit the pole the way that I just had, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. For if I had tried, my aim would have been off and I could’ve side swiped the post, which may have hurt my legs. Or maybe just the back tire would have hit the post. Maybe that have caused me to spin around and wreck. Then I remembered my mom’s warning that I would get too carried away. Yep, I should’ve listened.
“The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright: but the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness.” Proverbs 15:2 (KJV)
Looking back, I wish I had listened to my mom’s words because I could have saved myself a lot of embarrassment. She was being wise and using her knowledge where as I was selfish and only thinking about having fun. So, stop and listen when somebody tries to share their wisdom with you.
My relative came over and turned off the three-wheeler. I got off and didn’t get back on one for almost thirty years. The next time was when my dad bought one. He let Tim and me ride it around his farm. Let me tell you, we had so much fun. That is until Tim asked me if I wanted to drive it. I declined. While there were no basketball posts, there were plenty of trees around us.

Brooke Cox is an author, speaker, and storyteller. She was a 2016 Selah Awards Finalist for Debut Novel. Her children’s book: “Dinosaur Eggs,” is now available. It is based on Ephesians 6: The Armor of God. Her novel “Until the Moon Rises: A Conniving Cousin Mystery” is also available. Also, she has two books out in her storytelling series: “Saucy Southern Stories.” The Amazon links for her books may be found on her website: brookecoxstories.com. Please feel free to contact her. She would love to hear from you.