Elizabeth Evans’ optimism died this morning at 7:14.

The immediate cause of death has not been determined, but witnesses at the scene say that nothing could have survived the impact of:

Three kids’ worth of elementary-school progress reports with deficient conduct grades colliding with 16 loads of laundry, another round of teens squabbling over squatters’ rights in the shower, the complaints of a 4-year –old over how many marshmallows were in his oatmeal, persistent cash flow worries caused by highly variable work hours in a flagging economy, exacerbated by the plumber finding four Legos in the garbage disposal which apparently had caused the dishwasher to overflow.

Ms. Evans, distraught over the demise of her optimism, was unavailable for comment. According to her four children, the trigger event occurred when the eldest daughter suddenly remembered on the way to school that she needed $20 for a new volleyball after the family dog had eaten hers.

“We were already late for school, and Mom was really rushing, and our little brother was still counting marshmallows, and she was just backing out when I remembered I needed 20 bucks for the volleyball that Tanner ate,” Lane, aged 13, said.

“And then all of a sudden, BANG, there was a big flash of light, the airbag exploded, and Mom wouldn’t get out of the car.”

Paramedics called to the scene used the Jaws of Life, a Starbucks iced café mocha double shot and a Hershey bar to extract Mrs. Evans from the minivan.

Police investigators would not comment specifically on the morning’s chain of events pending an investigation. A spokesperson would only note that Ms. Evans optimism had already suffered a slow decline over recent years, probably from malnutrition.

“Your optimism has to be fed with fresh hope,” the spokesperson noted. “Ms. Evans had apparently been unable to find any for the past few years; she’d been feeding it reheated leftovers so this morning, her optimism just got overwhelmed and couldn’t put up much of a fight.”

Upon further questioning, the spokesperson did concede that “no optimism could withstand that kind of collision. Crash tests with dummy optimisms prove that excessive laundry alone can be lethal, even if the optimism is belted in a safety seat.”

Ms. Evans’ husband, Craig, had already left for work but returned soon after being called.

“This is horrible,” he sighed, kicking a tire on the destroyed van. “At least they were able to save her sense of humor,” referring to Ms. Evans’ wit, which was treated and released at the scene with only minor contusions.

Friends expressed shock and dismay. “The glass was always half full for her,” a neighbor commented, shaking her head and surveying the wreckage. “Now it looks like she’s going to have to get a sippy cup.”

Flowers and stuffed bears are being left in a makeshift memorial in the driveway of the family home where the meltdown occurred. Investigators are frantically searching for Ms. Evans’ mojo, which has not been seen since the blast, and is feared also dead or critically injured. The mojo, described as a “limp, dispirited rag,” could be confused and disoriented, and may be accompanied by Ms. Evans’ groove, which disappeared and was declared dead four years ago.

Anyone with information about the whereabouts of the Evans mojo should contact the authorities, who stress that at this time the mojo is not a suspect, but an investigative lead.

Ms. Evans’ optimism is survived by her sense of humor, persistence, and sheer willpower. No services are planned.

©     E. Stocking Evans 2002