Darling, yet hip, Olson family
We had a lovely BBQ on a semi-windy day. The Kuceras and Olsons made it home from Utah with a few eventful happenings. I kept calling them while I was at work - checking to see where they were on the map. They did pretty well I think. It was fun to have Dan and Emily back in Minnesota. They were entertaining to watch, newly married couple that they are, and I found myself giggling like a three year old when they would hold hands or slow dance in the dining room. Nevertheless, they are darling and I love them.
On Sunday, in my new ward, I got a potted plant. The little primary kids had decorated the pots for Mother's Day. I'm proud to say that it was my sister, the Primary President's idea, and they were perfect. I grabbed my plant, and as I walked out, her home teacher ran across the church parking lot after yelling 'Are you Reva's sister?' and gave me a plant for her as well. On the way home in the car, I spilled one of the pots in my brand new white interior car.
Then, before I was leaving for the BBQ, I managed to lock my keys in my car... and my cell phone... and my purse... and the trifle... and I'll stop listing things now because it's just embarrassing. That's what I get for being proactive and loading the car ahead of time. So I went knocking on doors in my neighborhood. I figured it was high time to meet some more of them. This isn't the first time I've done something like this. There is a reason why I have purchased the Emergency Road Side Assistance package that includes getting reimbursed for lock-outs.
After about the 5th door, someone opened it. A single girl, with a cat that kept rubbing itself all over my pant legs. I'd love to see my face when I'm trying to be polite but obviously holding back a big kick somewhere deep inside of me. Ok, so I really couldn't kick a cat, but I sure could shove it a little. The girl let me use her phone - where I proceed to call everyone in my family but no one answered because of stupid technology named caller ID. How could they possible know that I was cat lady's house because I had locked myself out of my brand new car that only had one key?
I finally got ahold of someone, explained my situation, and then started calling locksmiths. I found this guy named Harold. Harold, who had this big gruff voice and sounded semi scary over the phone. I wondered if it was a smart idea to call someone who sounded like an axe murderer. But I took a risk, because really, what else could I do. My trifle! Mother's Day! My phone! He came about 1/2 hour later. Harold pulled up in my driveway in this big beat up 'ol pick-up truck with his dog riding shotgun. Did you catch that? With his DOG riding shotgun. He came out with his bag of tools and I began to watch the interesting processing of breaking into a car.
First he pulls out these chunks of wood and wedges them on my brand spanking new black glossy car. He just shoves them in there. And then he whips out this coat hanger! Not joking. Maybe it was a fancy coat hangar but it was coat hanger stillthesame. I told him 'I can't look' because I did NOT want to see this man scratch the crap out of my new car. He looks at me and says 'Oh, don't worry, you can see this. I won't have to kill you because you won't know ALL my secrets'. This is the point that I realize that we are not on the same wave length. I'm worrying about my car getting scratched and he's thinking I'm trying to get Gone in 60 Seconds lessons. He ended up getting it open without too much scratching or wedging. I paid him and he started to leave but but I noticed he had left his tools hanging on a hook in my garage, so I went to get them for him and he said 'oh yeah, I couldn't leave those!! I would've had to come over and break in to get them!'.
I can't make this stuff up people. These are just the kind of things that happen to me all the time. Not just some of the time. My dad's favorite thing to say to me is 'Marla, it sure must be hard being you'. And I'd like to agree with him. I also realized that for Mother's day if I had any kids, I'd have to let them have a turn at doing some stupid stuff and not hog all the ideas myself.