So, Friday morning we have a 'scene' at home in the morning... the usual resistance to dressing and going out (Boo, not myself I hasten to point out) escalates into a full-blown tantrum and by the time we get out of the door, we are running late for the bus to our yoga class. Mama runs with Boo in buggy all the way to the bus stop (thank god its downhill), we catch the bus, make the 10 min walk the other end and arrive at the yoga place with a few minutes to spare. What a good recovery I'm thinking. Then, my stomach churns as I search in vain for 'blankie'. Blankie has been Boo's faithful companion since birth, it goes everywhere with her. It is a crocheted baby blankie handcrafted by my nan, who passed away over 20 years ago, for my sister when she was a baby. Oh God, we cannot lose blankie. We swiftly repackage ourselves and pelt back down the road, frantically searching for blankie. Oh my god, I'm going to have to learn how to crochet, I think as we make our way down busy Lonsdale Avenue. How long will it take me to make a whole blanket? Did we leave it on the bus? How will I ever get it back from the bus company? Just as my head is whirling with these thoughts, we see, folded neatly and draped over a railing outside a restaurant... its blankie! I think Boo has been spared the emotional journey I've just been on and is finding the whole thing rather exciting. I would just like to thank whichever kind soul on Lonsdale Ave on Friday morning picked up our precious blankie and left it carefully for us to retrieve. Sadly we missed our yoga class but 'Boo has her blankie back.
That petit drama was nothing, however, compared to what befell on Saturday morning. Dadda Boo had an all day conference to attend downtown, so we drove him to the Seabus and returned to Lynn Valley, with instructions to fill up the car with gas on the way home. I'm still getting used to the paying at the pump procedure and our car which requires you to pull a lever near the driver's seat to open the cap. So I have used my card, I have pump in my hand, I have my wallet in the other and I've forgotten to pull the lever. I quickly dump my purse on the seat, pull the lever, shut the driver's door and fill up. Great, I seem to be getting this now. I go to open the door. Oh... my.... Good .... God. The door will not open. Neither will any of the other doors. Boo is happily playing inside with her horse, oblivious to the fact that her mama has just locked her into the car. With the keys. I can see them now, on the front seat under my purse. We have the 'beeper' kind of key. My purse must have landed on the keys and locked the doors. Cue one panic stricken mama running into kiosk pleading for help from cashier. He comes out and kindly has a try with a coat hanger. No go. Thanks be , I usually carry my cellphone in my pocket as I can't hear it if it rings in my bag, so I put in a call to Dadda Boo, my voice wobbling. By this time Boo is becoming distressed and mama probably doesn't help by gesticulating at the window (telling her it will all be alright but probably distressing her more!) I cannot believe my luck, Dadda Boo has not yet boarded the seabus, so he jumps in a taxi and in 10 mins or so is rescuing us. I have sincerely learnt my lesson to always keep my keys about my person. What would I have done if Dadda Boo couldn't reach us? Broken a window? Called the fire brigade?
The good thing that came out of this debacle, was that Dadda Boo got to accompany us on a wee trip up the mountain. I was planning to take Boo ice skating for the first time, we had been talking about it for a while and I thought she was keen. However, sweet Boo can be rather reticent about physical adventure, and refused to countenance the suggestion when we were at the skate rental hut ( and yes, they do have them in her size), so we were confined to watching and 'maybe next time'. She'll still little I guess, and I don't want to push her, only encourage her to try things in a safe and comfortable manner.
But she did enjoy seeing these guys...