Here we go again folks, full speed ahead into another Monday. I am super happy to announce that I survived the plague or eboli or whatever it was. Thanks, hugs and chocolate vodka to all you wonderful people for your emails, tweets and text messages cheering me on and sending well wishes. ( except the one who said, can I have your heels when you die).
So since I am back let me fulfill my duties on this Monday by sharing with you what a Moron I am in hopes you can get through your day successfully by comparison.
Setting 1989, place the sweltering heat of the deep south. I was a new mom of a precious little baby girl of just 3 months and I thought it would be a brilliant idea to traverse along the gulf coast and head down to Central Florida to see my Mom, Grandparents and old friends. Not to mention I wanted to show off my PERFECT baby. It was around an 8 hour drive. No biggie, I drove it literally hundreds of times, in everything from a VW bug with no heat to a POS that had a cooler for a front seat. This time I was riding in style in my 74 Dodge with.. wait for it.. AIR CONDITIONING ! Hell to the yeah. Why am I excited about that? Because I drove crappy cars in the 80’s. The kind of cars you push started at every red light, the kind you carried anti freeze, oil, a screw driver, vice grips, panty hose and a couple jugs of water in at all times. Not only that I had maybe $35.oo in my pocket. Which for me back then was a large and lovely amount.
So there I was very safe with my baby in her car seat facing backwards in the back seat. Blowing the AC full blast in case she was hot in the back. I always worried about her overheating especially in the car facing backwards. I had come up with a brilliant system I had the door key on a separate key ring from the ignition key. ( remember they used to be different) I would leave the car locked and running with the AC on so the car would be nice and cool for her when we got back in if we made any short stops.
She was an awesome car rider, in fact I often had to drive her around at night to get her to sleep then I could park and we would sleep in the car until she woke up and we would drive more. So I load up the car and hit the road all prepared because I am so full of awesome and that must be where she got it from. About 4 hours into the drive I made a stop in a little town called Marietta Florida. I could hear she had woken up and was moving around, and I had to go to the bathroom but had held it until she woke up to limit my stops. I grab my wallet, and hop out locking the drivers door behind me. Go around to the back and go to get her out.
Her door is locked. No biggie I have my door lock key right here in my purse.. OMG. I only grabbed my wallet… Heart rate increasing, my body systems start to shut down as I round the car checking every door. OMG. OMG. OMG !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes I have locked my infant in my running car 4 hours from anyone I know. I look in on her, she is awake, she is moving about. OMG, my heart is sitting in pools near my ankles. I open the door to the convenient store and scream in, “HELP CALL SOMEBODY I HAVE LOCKED MY BABY IN MY CAR!” and bolt back to the rear window so I can watch her.
Now I am in Florida in it’s ruffly around the same temperature as the surface of the sun about that time of year. So instantly every thinks heat stroke. Everyone around including the store clerk come bolting out. They are grabbing coat hangers ( remember when they were wire and you always had one in your car?) People were relieved I had left the car on with the AC blowing, it gave us more time. They all made many failed attempts to unlock each and every door wasting a boat load of time Cletus ( one of the natives to that area) made a statement that shoved me ever close to the edge of loosing it. He said, ” I sure hope that gas gage is broke, if not we are gonna be in a pickle soon.” I can assure you the gage was not broken and Cletus was right. However I can also tell you that screaming and crying around strangers trying to get your baby out of a car with a wire hanger makes it infinitely harder.
More people had pulled up, I had a team of 2 working on each of the 4 doors as I monitored her through that back window. It’s 90 kazillion degrees and we are in the sunlight. People are sweating and shaking like they are trying to cut the red wire or blue wire on a time bomb.
The car starts to sputter. I scream, ” WHERE THE HELL ARE THE COPS???”
Everyone turns to the store clerk who said and I quote, ” oh, when you said call someone I called my Uncle this is him, he came faster than the cops would, it would take them at least an hour”
AN HOUR? like the friggin hour we have sat here trying to do this hour? Or maybe it’s some special backwoods OMG my baby is trapped hour? How about my car is clearly out of gas and my child is about to smolder hour?
Good bye dear ledge of sanity, I am swan diving into a peaceful realm of mental breakdown, which I will block out later for self preservation. Ding Dongs, Ho Ho’s, and kit kats floating by while I plummet off the edge deeper and deeper. They dangle keys and point and laugh.
MIND LOST.
I walk over to the truck next to me open the mandatory tool box on all trucks in Florida grab and hammer walk to my car and smash out the drivers window.
I climb over the broken glass and into the back seat cutting up my legs and get to her. I unlock the doors and get her out snag the diaper bag and take her inside to give her a once over and make sure she is ok.
Apparently a good Samaritan turned off my car as they all stood there dumbfounded that I had just done that. I changed her diaper, and kissed her all over and she was fine. I washed off my bloody knees and stuck toilet paper to them like men do when they shave badly. The ordeal was over. I went to the counter to pay for gas so I could get the glass out of the car and get back on the road.
Oh my wallet, I had laid it on the car in all the turmoil. I go out, and guess what? My wallet is gone, with my money. NICE. real nice. Apparently my day was NOT shitty enough? One of the “helper” people has a special place carved out in hell and I hope that Hitler is waiting to shove a pineapple up his or her ass on the hour every hour.
As I sat there crying on the curb holding my baby, the remaining bystanders took up a collection to fill my tank. I know right? That is either pure genuine kindness, or let’s get this loony tune out of our town. But it worked I swept the glass out my seat and off the floor board, and filled my car up. I thanked everyone and got on the road. Wind blowing full speed in my face but I wasn’t locked out and more importantly my baby wasn’t locked in.
Yes it started raining about an hour down the road, it’s Florida it has to do that every summer day. Yes I took baby blankets and made a fake window by shutting the blankets in the door.
When I got to my Moms house I was so proud I had made it, yet so embarrassed at my stupidity. I called my husband back at our house and told him of the ordeal. You see there were no cell phones back then so when I left, I left, imagine that now days? He said just 1 thing.
” Why didn’t you just use the magnetic door key under tire well.”
So hope your Monday ranks a little higher than this one. You don’t crawl over broken glass slicing up your legs, You don’t get you wallet stolen, You don’t have to beg for money from strangers 4 hours from anyone you know, and above all, DON’T LOCK YOUR BABY IN THE CAR !
Yes I am a Moron. Happy Monday people.
PEACH OUT
thats the most moronic thing I have ever read…actualy you werent the only one to have done it…I have heard many a horror story of MOMS leaving their kids locked in…a matter of fact when we were (my brother and sister) were little kids, my mom would LEAVE us in the car for hours while she visited friends or certain relatives…we froze in the winters (Chicago) and baked in the summers…
some people call that child abuse…back then no one carred…it was the fifties..ok so Im that old…but I wont even my dogs in the car if I took them with me…I absolutely go crazy when I see a dog(s) left in a car when its 80’s,90’s or when ever with just a crack of a window…what is wrong with all these MORONS…
spank spank…yikes!!!…thats abuse all over again
Okay, I didn’t think it was possible to adore you more than I already do, but this post did it. I laughed, I cried, I clutched the strand of imaginary pearls at my breast in despair for your ordeal!
But, more importantly, where the hell is my Twinkie and Ding Dongs? I came racing over here drooling over the title of this post. False advertising, I say! Balderdash!
xoxo
Hey I think I know Cletus. Is he kin to Big Bubba from up yonder? Gotta love those Floridians 😉 They’re a special breed.
You Sybil are a mess.. and I love you! And this coming from me is a compliment.
@Jeff- Yeah I still do the extra key thing because I now leave my dogs ( Loki and Mei) in the car when I run into stores and always leave the car running and air running for them). I too grew up in the days of laying in the back window of the adults car or sitting on the floor board because no one had a car big enough to lug all us kids around. But the best of the best was having to set in the middle of the bench seat sticking to your 2 older teenage stinking brothers because they wanted the window seat.
@ Ri- I adore you too. Oh yeah it was Ding Dongs, Ho Ho’s and Kit Kats wasn’t it, sorry I guess I owe you some twinkies.
@Holly- Yeah Cletus is bubbas Uncle. The one they called instead of ther cops.
*** Also of note- I totally messed up, the town name was Mariana, not Marietta. I guess when I blocked stuff out I mangled the name of the town too.
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That was hilarious, Peachy! I love it. I once locked by daughter in the car (thankfully in a parking garage in FL) because she liked to play with my keys. She was holding them when I put her in the car seat and just as I shut the door – “beep” – she pushed the lock button. Being only about 7 months old, she didn’t understand about pushing the “unlock” button. Luckily I had popped the truck to put the stroller in so I was able to crawl through the trunk and pop the thingy down where the armrest is in order to reach in and get the keys from her. 🙂
Marietta is in Oklahoma i believe. any Moronic stories from the road trip to OKC?? something we dont know about. you could always talk about the near breakdown your neice had when she laid eyes on the Prince, because of his resemblence to her own son. wait, that wouldnt be funny. Ever have any issues with projectile vomiting while driving (the babies not you). and it gets stinky formula yuck all over the seat, and you puke yourself when trying to clean that up. Once Rickey fell out of the car, as i pulled into a parking space. He is the one that opened the door, yet i still hear about it. I Love your stories. you should write a book. Like Janet Evanovich.