My best friend and Little Bean and I packed up all our stuff and hopped in the car for the typically one and a half hour drive south to Victoria to drop off my visiting best bud at her brother's house. If I had known the adventure would have taken four hours to drive one way, and another five to get back, I may have waived the luxury of getting to deliver my friend to her brother.
The problem driving down was that Little Bean was not enjoying the car seat and seemed endlessly hungry and poopy. We stopped on the side of the road probably five or six times. I stopped counting.
The drive home started well with catching the Mill Bay ferry on time, but quickly became the drive from hell when half way home my car stopped running. I pulled over on the highway and realized how much I love my husband for telling me that morning to bring the cell phone. I called CAA and arranged for a tow, but discovered that tow trucks can't take small children in car seats. Insert moment of panic here. My sister-in-law happened to call at that point, during which the cell provider so pleasantly stated, "There are one minutes remaining on this call." Why are they always grammatically incorrect? That's beside the point. Our pre-paid deal was almost out of juice.
"Great" [said in most sarcastic tone]. So I asked my sister-in-law to contact my husband and let him know what the deal was: "Car refuses to start. Baby is not welcome in tow truck. Come pick me up at the Wendy's in Duncan."
It was near this point that I reached into the back of our car to find my friend's luggage still with me and not with her. "Oh jeeze." When I dropped her off at her brother's place, she ran out of the car, so excited to see her little niece. The luggage wasn't so lucky.
I spent $25 getting back to Duncan with a cabbie who insisted I read his poetry (all laminated and hand written, obviously shared with anyone lucky enough to get in his cab) while telling me that the one time he was in Chilliwack, he met a guy at the bus station with the exact same name as him. "Fascinating. Thank you for sharing."
I sat wondering if I was going to be picked up from the greasey-smelling Wendy's, where I felt sort of trapped since I had a three-month old, a bag of diapers, an umbrella and a heavy car seat. I thought I packed light, but the car seat pushed me over the top. I looked at my cell phone (useless). I looked at my ipod touch (useless because Wendy's doesn't have wireless). I was hoping that my husband had been contacted, and that our neighbour was home and graciously let him borrow a car and that I'd be on my way home very soon. When stuff like this happens, the only place to be is home. Lucky for me, I only had to wait about an hour before I saw that loving familiar face: My knight in shining armour on his borrowed horse. "Let's go home."
I called my best buddy when I got back home and she said she'll make it through a few days without her coat, her bags, and her computer. Nothing like forgetting luggage to make you buy some new undies and soap. She'll be returning to our house on the greyhound bus in a few days to pick up her things and continue on her travels. At least we get to see her again, right?
Well, Universe. Thanks for a good ending to such a ridiculous day. And thanks for the long recovery sleep the following day. No finger for you.
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