Mama Said, Mama Said

....There'll be days like this....I won't claim that Saturday night was the worst night of my life. If you'd like it summed up in one word, that would be "infuriating." If you'd like it in more words, read on.

It all started when Gerrit got home from a work day he'd started at 4:30 am. Thinking it a good time for him to nap, I got Addie and I ready to go to the store. After strapping her into her seat and starting the car, I realized I had forgotten my cell phone inside. Since we live on the second floor of our apartment building, I really didn't want to go get the phone. And with this next thought, the afternoon started a downward spiral:

I can go without my phone. What are the odds of me actually needing it?

After a successful shopping trip at "Once Upon a Child," I once again loaded Adeline and I into our now slightly snow-covered car. As I pulled the car out from the frontage road onto a side-street, the car engine TURNED OFF! It had just enough momentum for me to pull to the side of the road.

At this point, I had a conversation with God. Mostly, I said, "Seriously?!" with various tones and inflections. I was in a broken down car with a baby and no cell phone. This was my nightmare.

Several attempts to start the car later, a 20-something, messenger-bag toting, holey-eared guy asked if I needed help. I simply asked to use his phone. I prayed for Gerrit to hear his phone. I knew after 5 rings that he was in a deep slumber. I pictured his phone (on vibrate, no doubt) on the coffee table in the next room from him. Silent mind-swearing ensued as I thanked the guy for his help and told him I'd keep trying to start the car. He walked away and took with him a little piece of my hope.

With zero success at starting the car, I perused my options for shelter. The car was getting cold and Adeline was starting to whimper. I put the pacifier in her mouth and she immediately fell asleep. When I had turned to help her, I saw the gas station within easy walking distance. With that, we said "goodbye" to the vehicle and made the short trek to the station. Two ladies were working behind the counter. I gave them my best teary, doe eyes.

This is the one time I'm not carrying my phone. My car broke down....I have a baby."

"Oh, honey! Here, use the phone!"

Cell phone dependency being what it is, the only number I knew, Gerrit's, was completely useless. Still, I tried it for the better part of an hour. The cashiers allowed me to look up out apartment manager's number. Again--useless. No one answered. My ten phone calls confirmed her absence again and again. The women took pity on me and called their co-workers to rescue us. The only one to answer was the Assistant Manager, Mike. They told him about my situation. His one question before offering to come give us a ride was,

Does she look like a serial killer?

Smart man. I asked the ladies a series of similar questions.

Is he a rapist?

-stalker?

-pedophile?

They assure me he was harmless. But I was still going against every instinct I had as a woman and a mother to accept a ride from a man I'd never met. I comforted myself with the thought that my face was on surveillance camera and these women were my witnesses. A tearful half-hour later, Mike showed up.

You must be the one looking for a ride?

"Yes, that's me."

I thanked the women, gathered a sleepy Adeline, and hesitantly followed Mike to his truck. I hooked the babe in the back seat and said a prayer that this wouldn't be the worst choice I'd ever made.

Mike and I made awkward small talk in between my "turn here" comments. We finally pulled into my parking lot. I quickly unhooked Adeline, stammered several "thank-yous" to my rescuer, and briskly made my way up to our apartment. The tears began to flow freely as I took Adeline out of her seat, hugged the daylights out of her and walked to our bedroom to share the escapade with a groggy Gerrit.

After several apologies for no answering hi phone, he got ready to go to access the situation. I was so grateful to be home. My nerves were calming. Fed Addie. Changed into my PJs. Then Gerrit called....

Where did you say the Ford is?....Oh, no....You've got to be kidding me."

What? Did they tow it?

No, I locked my keys in the Honda.

In one swift closing of a car door, the night had gotten worse. I pulled myself together once more and humbly asked the neighbors for help. The dear mother-of-two watched Adeline, while her husband offered to drive me to save Gerrit. Adeline was a trouper throughout the entire ordeal; and the neighbor girls were thrilled to have her there. Addie's smile was the bright spot in our evening. It's like she didn't know to be frustrated!

Our neighbor dropped me off at the all-too-familiar gas station. Gerrit and I unlocked one car, arranged for a tow for the other, and waited 40 minutes together in the vehicle while a light snow fell outside. When the tow truck came, Gerrit explained that he would first drop me off, then meet the man at the repair shop. And so it was...

However, on Gerrit's way home from the shop, he fish-tailed through a yellow traffic light, over-corrected as the car spun in 180 degrees and hit a curb. He and the car drove away unharmed, but slightly shaken.

Well folks, there's only one way to end a night like this one. A combination of nervous laughter, many hugs and a lighthearted movie were in order. As the three of us snuggled on the couch, "Winnie-the-Pooh" lulled us back into relaxation and relief.

....Oh, bother.....