A Funny Turn of Events

I usually enjoy Christmas shopping, but this year is different. Babysitters for our two-year-old daughter are scarce early December as a round of “Mac Truck” flu rolls through the local high school. My husband has been working out of the area so I’ll have to shop when he is home on weekends.  

Saturday morning arrives with a fresh blanket of snow, icy roads and a forecast for more. 

“I kiss my new sister, Mommy!” My little angel kisses my bulging tummy and I know she’s going to have a great day with her daddy and grandparents.

List in hand I head out in the direction of the malls, hoping the parking lots are plowed and that I’ll be able to fulfill Amy’s wishes.

By noon, with less than half the list accomplished, I wheel the shopping cart to the car through the snow that’s fallen since I arrived.  While cleaning the snow off, I decide to try Dartmouth.  Not a good choice today!  An accident on the bridge ties us up for over an hour – and I’ve got to get to a bathroom!  

By four thirty, most of the gifts have been bought.  My tired feet and swollen ankles that have supported me as I’ve visited the bathroom at least once in every mall are screaming to stop!  I still have to find a soft-bodied baby doll with brown hair (Amy’s number one wish from Santa), and trudge to yet another toy store.  Success at last! 

Lugging the last of the parcels into the house, I’ve got to go to the bathroom again.

Is that the phone?  I haven’t even gotten my coat off yet.

I glance at the clock – 5:20 pm. I’ve got to get supper started. 

 I’m almost hoping it’s a suppertime telemarketer.  I feel the need to vent, so he’s going to get an ear full.  Yes, I’m just in that kind of mood.

“Hello?” I’m sure the caller can hear the intended tone of disgust.

“Oh Pat!  You’re home!  I’m at the gas station” I hear my husband, panicked.

“What’s the matter?”

“I left the keys in the car when I got gas and Amy’s locked the doors. I told her to pull up the button, but she’s just smiling at me.  You’re going to have to bring me the other set of keys!”

I can imagine her darling smile, waving her little hand at her daddy, throwing him kisses.  She doesn’t understand that the button she’s pushed locks the door.  Oh, I bet she’s driving her daddy over the edge. I can’t help but laugh to myself at the inane situation.

As calmly as I can, I answer him, “Honey, tell her to roll down the window.”

There’s an ever so brief silence on the other end of the phone, followed by “click”.  Smiling to myself, I dial the local pizza delivery number, before running to the bathroom.