Mind Your Head

Yesterday, I was talking with a father, and he asked me what he should do about the custody battle with which he is involved. I told him that I run away from custody battles.

They are complicated, difficult, and often drag on and on. A lot of the families that I become involved with are also involved in custody battles. The bickering, instability, and unknowns aren't any good for the kids. Frankly, nothing about the process is good for the kids.

But today it could not be avoided. I was subpoenaed to testify at a custody hearing in a far away corner of Indiana.

It was a long drive and my GPS didn't bother taking me on the interstate. It must know me. It led me along winding country highways through little towns with funny names, like Monon and Egypt. Gas stations were far and few between. I stopped at one and went inside what looked more like a shed than a convenience store to use the restroom.  Directly inside the door several older men were sitting around a table. They were the old farmer type, and it was clear to me that I had interrupted their morning coffee and town gossip time. It appeared clear to them that I was an outsider. I ought to have fit in just fine, but I'm sure my shiny new car and spiffy court outfit threw them off.

Nevertheless, I arrived at my destination with time to spare. The court house was old-fashioned and dignified. Our court room had six elegant chandeliers that were starkly contrasted with the blue painted ceiling emblazoned with gold star stickers. The walls were complete with the Indiana state flag symbol stenciled upon them.

On my visit to the basement to use the bathroom, I had to duck. A sign was posted in the stairwell: Mind Your Head.

Great advice for any custody hearing.

Perhaps the most alarming occurrence of the day happened inside my car.

This is what I see as I am cruising down the country highway.

The dials go to zero and all the warning lights come on. Oh and the radio gets quieter.

I have a small panic attack and my mind starts wondering how my car could be possessed, but then I calm down slightly when I realize that I'm still cruising down the country highway.

Soon, the speedometer returned to 65 and all was well. Until fifteen minutes later when it happened again. And again. And again. And again. I wouldn't go so far as to say I got used to this little anomaly. My heart still jumped a bit each time, and I found myself holding my breath.

But my dad is on the case so I'm sure it will be solved soon.

Unlike those custody battles.