Life is full of little mishaps. It's how you handle them that counts!  Our friend Amanda tells about one incident where there was laughter instead of tears . . .

Falling down the stairs, breaking a glass that shatters into tiny little pieces, or getting locked in a train bathroom? Life’s little mishaps used to get me down, but what does crying over spilled milk do for you? Nothing!

A few weeks ago, after putting on some clean clothes fresh out of the dryer, I stood over the stove top cooking dinner, but I misplaced the spoon in the pan only to watch it flip, splattering red sauce all down my favorite pants. My first instinct begged me to let hot tears burst from my eyes, but when I saw the smirk on my boyfriend’s face, all I could do was laugh.

Not crying over spilled sauce has been a learning curve for me. So when I found myself in a stinky situation a couple weekends ago, the hysterical laughter that followed only made the early morning even better.

As a runner, I participate in many early morning races in New York City’s beautiful Central Park. My boyfriend and I have a set routine of stopping for coffee so we can enjoy each other’s company despite the sun barely breaking the horizon on the ride in from Connecticut. We’ve even made friends with the conductor who happens to be a Boston sports fan, like my boyfriend, in a New York sports world.

Normally, I wait until we arrive at Grand Central Terminal before using the restroom, but because we were on one of the newly running trains, I took the opportunity to go before we arrived. Little did I know that these bathrooms were temperamental, to say the least.

Wonderstruck at the cleanliness, yet still foul-scented bathroom, I closed the door, only to find that the lock didn’t seem to want to hitch. With a little extra push and shove, I heard the click and felt secure.

At last I felt relieved and ready for my race, but when I attempted to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. I tried again, and before I knew it, panic set in. Throwing my 115-pound, petite frame into the door didn’t do a thing. Feeling my face flush, I decided the last resort was to bang on the door.

Bang, bang, bang! My hand slapped at the wall, and I heard a muffled voice talking to me. The conductor came on the loudspeaker saying we’re stopped because someone’s locked in the bathroom. “Lovely, everyone knows someone is trapped in the bathroom and that person is me,” I thought sarcastically.

After several more screams through the door, I vaguely understood I needed to move back. With a pop, the lock released and the door slid gracefully open.

Grinning from ear to ear, relief washed over me. When I looked up, it was our friend the conductor who joked that it would be me. I giggled while thanking him profusely before heading back to take a seat, laughing the whole way.

Despite the panic of being confined in a tight space on a moving train, all I could do was laugh and get on with my day instead of dwelling on the embarassment of being the girl that got herself locked in the bathroom.