Today I had an embarrassing moment, from which I recovered swiftly only by telling myself ‘At least it wasn’t as bad as yesterday’s embarrassing moment’ from which I recovered only by telling myself, ‘At least it wasn’t as bad as last month’s embarrassing moment’ and so the saga continues. And, like the bees in story number two, today my brain is swarmed by these stories and I’m stuck trying to divert their attention from stinging me over and over and over. And even though Ryan says I mortify way too easily, I present my evidence for this valid emotion in the form of three stories.
1. Escalator Woes
One Saturday the Barlow fam innocently decided to cash in L & M’s coin jars they get from picking up their toys, and where else to accomplish such feat but the Disney Store? Ryan and I were unpleasantly surprised to see how many people were at the mall that day, come to find out they were having some sort of pre-Labor day sale. So a little back-story (Phineas and Ferb anyone?), L & M are terrified, petrified, totally and completely escalator phobic. It’s mostly the getting on and off part, and who could blame them as the stairs do start to look like jagged teeth upon entry. Well, this Saturday was no exception, except Ryan and I, not having exposed the kids to escalators in about a year, forgot about such phobia, especially after four out of the five of us–proceeded to get on one. I don’t know how it happened, one minute London was right next to us, accounted for and the next minute we were riding down the escalator and there she was at the top, screaming. What is a mom to do but start climbing up escalator stairs, the opposite way, but it was no use-we were halfway down the escalator. In my mind, and writing about this now I am still turning crimson, this event turned into somewhat of a scene. A screaming four-year old, a scrambling up the down-escalator mom, and of course, two teenage boys at the top totally stoic (but I know they were panicking on the inside). What seemed like hours later, a mom who was waiting her turn for the escalator pushed the teenage boys out of the way, daintily grabbed London, and rode down the escalator stairs, saving every inch of the day. Later when we think about it, Ryan chuckles, but it was seriously the most mortifying moment of my entire life. Who is going to forget this phobia next time, not I.
2. Swarming Playground
Just yesterday I decided to, and danged if I ever use this phrase again, ‘seize the day!’ I had three stir-crazy kids a husband who wouldn’t be home past bedtime and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. Never fear, I said, there’s always a trip to the library and McDonald’s, my ace in the hole for such situations. Well, the former part of such trip went quite smoothly, in fact I didn’t even have to pull out the ol’ ‘do that again and we’re not going to McDonald’s’ threat. Well another back story is that the twins, ok mostly me, but I have passed along this phobia to the twins, are deathly phobic bees. So there we were on the McDonald’s playground, soaking wet due to the effects of recent rain on the playground, but those of you who know me know I’m not going to let a little rain stop us from seizing the day. And then came the bees. The only logical explanation was that they wanted our food, but they were–everywhere, at least one for each of our dozen chicken nuggets. After a couple of minutes of such obstacles, I decided it really was impractical to stay outside; we calmly swatted bees while making our way to the door, only to find out it was in fact–locked? No way, McDonald’s, did you just lock us INTO your playground? No gates or any other way to exit in sight. So a recap, I am 1-holding Livvy 2- holding a tray of 12 chicken nuggets, chocolate milk, sprite, one quarter pounder, two french fries, two My Little Ponies and one McFlurry with a bee in it 3-holding London’s shoes and 4-trying to calm down Madelyn who is literally hysterical because a-the bees are eating her ice cream b-the bees are touching her My Little Pony c-she’s too scared to go get her shoes and d-we are locked out and swarmed by bees
WHILE
the other mom in McDonald’s playland is banging on the window, trying to get someone inside’s attention. Luckily, it was only a few seconds before someone came to un-jam the door, and we enjoyed a pleasant lunch inside aside from having to scoop the bee out of our ice cream.
Seriously, who thinks to pack rock climbing equipment for a trip to McDonald’s playground?
3. Pop A Lock
(And you know by the title of this it can’t be good.)
Ah, a Tuesday morning at Target. You know I get lost in Target, looking through all the shoes and baby clothes and Christmas decor, but I did manage a few things on our list in the meantime. Turns out our angel Liv is quite the shopper; not a peep out of this girl, even during naptime. It’s been over four years since I’ve enjoyed such freedom in the middle of the day. Well, my freedom was short lived, because right after I made my way out of the store, I packed up the groceries into the trunk, and while still holding Liv, set down my purse and keys on the front seat, and proceeded to LOCK the car in an attempt unlock the back door. I realized this exactly as front the door was closing, separating me from my cell phone, keys, wallet, anything with a glimpse of usefulness. So there I am standing in the parking lot, that feeling came over me where you just deleted an important paper into oblivion minutes before it’s due. What next?
Made my way back into customer service and explained my situation, where they graciously offered me the phone. But as panic would have it, the only non-long distance number I knew was my own, my feeble mind thinking that Ryan, who was in class anyway, had changed his number with his new recent phone. At this point there were, as Ryan later pointed out, about seventeen more logical solutions than mine of choice: call a locksmith, and sit in the parking lot wrestling with Livvy, who was re-thinking that nap and a snack, while singing “a big black dog slept under the porch and Bingo was his name. B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name.’ until I was rescued some forty minutes, and forty dollars later. Never fear readers, after said conversation with Ryan, I had another conversation with our friendly car insurance; the friendly part comes from their saying they will reimburse all my money. So all’s well that ends well, right? At least I didn’t lock Liv in the car.
So to recap, never trust:
*Escalators
*The doors at McDonald’s
*That a husband’s just a phone call away
*Playgrounds after rainfall
*Hungry Bees
*My lock-picking skills
and ESPECIALLY
*My long-term, short-term, and working memory
Phobias, Revisited
So the multiple-choice question I threw out there was actually a trick question to which there are two answers:
a) and b)
Here is how we got the lights up.
I repelled out the bathroom window (we chose me because Ryan’s heavier and obviously a stronger base!) to do a couple of the staples, and then for the last two staples–yes, me at the top of the ladder which was set on an angle resting on the corner of the house, cursing, sweating, and laughing nervously. And the neighbors offered moral support so basically all of you were right.