The list was simple:
- Mail letters (Yes, I still love sending handwritten letters through the mail.)
- Pick up Pottery (From a Paint Your Own Pottery girls night.)
- Buy Chocolate Frogs (Miss S wants to give her teachers Harry Potter Chocolate Frogs as a going away/thank you gift.)
- Grocery Shop (Eggs!)
Four tasks for a Thursday morning, what could go wrong?
Miss C refused to get dressed. After numerous attempts at getting her to buy into the whole, “You need clothes for shopping” thing, I found her lying under the covers of her bed: naked. I had two choices:
- Leave her, calling the whole errand thing off.
- Grab clothes, pick her up and haul her out of the house.
I chose option #2, stopping at the bathroom for an angry-racoon pee-check before marching her out the door. Please give me props for getting her shirt on before the hissing got too crazy.
The pottery store was the most interesting, so I pointed the car south and started driving.
It was a terrible drive, every street in Victoria seems to be dug up. Also, a tiny spider was crawling on the roof of our van, either making a web or just wanting to antagonize the littles. He/she, after making the appropriate stir, ended up escaping out an open window. Thank you, Miss Q.
We arrived at the pottery studio to find it opened at 11:00. It was 10:18. Two more choices:
- Buy Chocolate Frogs at the candy store in Sidney (45 mins away).
- Buy Chocolate Frogs at downtown candy store (15 mins away).
I chose option #2.
More construction. Annoying construction. Construction that made me zig and zag along residential streets until I heard an ominous *pop*.
After parking the car and inspecting the tires I was relieved to see that none of them were flat; however, I was grouchy to see something that looked like a spent bullet (thanks C.S.I.) lodged in my front driver’s side tire.
As I dug at the object with my key, I paused to wonder if the tire would suddenly explode once I got the object out. The tires were filled with nitrogen. I weighed my options:
- Keep on driving; take my chances.
- Drive it back home and play helpless female – i.e. wait till my husband came home from work.
- Drive to Kal Tire and have them help me.
I chose #1.
“You’re going to hear a clicking sound as I drive, but it’s okay,” I told my young passengers as I started the engine.
We made it downtown. Instead of exploding it, the extra driving had pushed the brass coloured object further into the tire.
“Stay in the car until I get the ticket,” I told the littles, reaching behind me to unbuckle Miss C. “Oh, hold on, let’s get your clothes on.” I grabbed the green pants off the passenger seat and twisted around so I could slide them over her legs.
Unlike at our house, there were no alligator death rolls; the raccoon had mellowed. She simply stuck out her feet and allowed me to clothe the bottom half of her body. “Where are your shoes?”
“You didn’t bring them for me,” Miss C accused.
“What? I didn’t -” Crap. I didn’t grab her shoes. Crappity-crap. “Miss Q, is the stroller in the back?” I knew the answer before she replied. No, no it wasn’t. We had taken the stroller out yesterday so my parents could use it with Miss C. Crap.
- Abort mission, drive home, #epicfail.
- Carry Miss C through the streets of downtown and then where ever we went after taking the car to Kal Tire.
- Purchase shoes or an umbrella stroller for Miss C.
I chose #3.
“You see what happens when you throw a tantrum, Miss C?” I asked as we rode the escalator at Hudson’s Bay.
“You get new shoes!” Miss Q replied.
“That’s not the lesson I’m trying to teach her.”
“But you are.” Miss Q beamed. “Miss C, you’re getting new shoes because you threw a tantrum,” she cooed.
“Thank you, Miss Q.” Seriously, when did she become so, so seven?!
After cruising The Bay for footwear (no children’s shoes in 5 floors of stuff), we stumbled upon Payless Shoes, which, quite frankly I am not a fan of because of their cheap shoes, but was a fan of today because of their cheap shoes.
$15.00 later, Miss C had the sparkliest shoes on the block. She was happy, so happy that she didn’t want to be picked up at all. Ah-mazing.
Chocolate frogs purchased. Back in the car cruising to Kal Tire. Tire hasn’t exploded. Back on track.
The first buddy at Kal Tire said it was no problem, they could fit us in, our car would be ready at 3:30 – 4:00. It was 11:38. The second, who I left our key with, gave me hope for a speedier turn around, as he ushered us into the waiting room.
Stale popcorn, water, TV, we were set. But that motherly-niggly feeling that three girls surrounded by tires would only last so long.
- Take a taxi home.
- Go out for lunch.
I chose #2. It just so happened we were close to a family restaurant, and while my food lacked luster, the girls were wined and dined. Miss S wouldn’t stop raving over her plain cheese quesadilla, and Miss Q’s end of meal kid’s sundae was as big as her head, topped with hot fudge, whipped cream, peanuts and a strawberry on top… standard, apparently.
Upon returning to the tire store, we found our van up on the lift. Miss C’s stuffed Hello Kitty had been left in the car and the littles surmised she was having a blast being up so high.
The man working on our tire jogged over and informed us it would be another hour.
- Take him up on the popcorn and TV.
- Walk to the mall.
- Take taxi home.
I chose #2. I hadn’t bought those sparkly shoes for nothing.
Miss C walked all the way to the mall and through three stores before calling it quits. So I:
- Picked her up and called a taxi.
- Picked her up and walked back to Kal Tire.
- Picked her up and got one of those mall strollers.
Yes, #3. This, of course, made Miss S green with envy. She spent the remainder of our mall walk giving Miss C nudges, or “helping” her steer the fake steering wheel. Should have picked out the double, but I was already feeling trashy for pushing the single around.
The level of excitement over being in the mall was over-the-top-ridiculous. Miss Q and Miss S wandered the racks asking if things were in their size or telling Miss C it would fit her. They oohed and ahhed over cute pieces and were genuinely overwhelmed by all that was around them. I suppose this means:
- We’re in trouble.
- We’re in trouble.
- I need to keep my job.
Surprisingly, I did find a pretty dress for myself, but then remembered the surgical extraction being performed on my tire, and, the added bonus of an overdue wheel alignment and stepped away from being frivolous… for now.
We were happy to see our car back in the parking lot. With the brass “thingy” (their technical term, not mine) out of the wheel and the toes once again pointed in the right direction, we were off.
Sure, the day could have been zestier, Miss Q dubbed it an un-fun, but not all days are going to zing. Some days are going to make you feel like you’re in a gigantic Choose Your Own Adventure book; and as long as the adventure includes my trio and we don’t choose a route that leads us to man-eating alligators, that’s just fine with me.
Sparkliest shoes we could find.