Dot the i's

 Have you ever found that you seemed to miss something obvious?  You know, like dotting an “i”, or crossing a “t”.  Little things which seem like their impact might be small.  But, you know, it’s often not.

Take my move a few years ago.  We rented a truck from a well-known company – one of those big straight ones with a 26’ foot box.  As the person with a full driver’s licence, I was the lucky one who got to drive it – an interesting experience fraught with many of what we’ll gently call stories.  Let’s just leave it that it was the biggest thing I’d ever driven at the time.


Our new home was on a bit of a hill – that is, one drove up a hill to get to the house, and at that point the ground was level … or at least, so I thought.  We learned otherwise. 

I drove up the hill and parked the truck in front of the garage, with the back door (and life’s possessions) close to the house.  I turned the truck off and got out. 

And then.  And then, I realized the truck was slowly starting to roll backwards.  Down the driveway.  Towards the major thoroughfare on which our home was located.  Towards my car which was pulling into the long driveway behind it.  At the bottom of the “bit of a hill”.  With my child – and my partner – in it.

Shaking and terrified, I ran back to the truck, jumped in, and jammed my foot on the brake.  I sat there shaking until my partner – who’s driven big trucks before – parked my car and came up to the driver’s door.  I wasn’t buying his claim that it was ok for me to get out or slide over so he could jump in.  No way.  I sat there shaking with my foot on the brake until he was squished in the driver’s seat beside me, with his own foot solidly on the brake.  It was only then that I felt safe to slide over to the passenger side to get out.

Turns out there’s this “parking brake” button in trucks like this.  You push it and it locks the brakes in.  Unfortunately, when I picked up this truck the previous night, the attendant at the large and well-known rental truck company failed to tell me this.

I’m profoundly grateful that nothing really terrible happened – that is, other than my absolute terror and the five years I dropped off my life in that incident!  But what if it had?  I learned later that my partner had been wondering whether to:

-          pull my little Sunfire up behind the truck to hold it there

-          jump out and run to the truck

-          get out of the way so I could at least go to work the next day

(the third option was probably the best of those…)  Luckily, I circumvented the need for these by my own actions.

I can’t help but think, though, that all of this could have been avoided by – oh yeah, someone just doing their job and TELLING ME ABOUT THE BRAKE BUTTON!!  (How did they think I’d know it was there?)

This story is now many years in the past, but this “minor oversight which could have been a massive tragedy” stays in my mind.  Why?  It could have been so incredibly easily avoided.  Just a mention to push the button when parking would have done it.  That’s all.


As ever, there are lessons in these things.  Little things sometimes matter.  Err on the side of crossing the t’s.  Dot the i’s. Looking after the details could make all the difference.

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