A Sticky Situation

Shaun worked a bit late yesterday and I felt that as a result, I deserved a delicious, indulgent fountain Dr. Pepper. 

(Oh Dr. Pepper, I'm trying to quit you...  well, my extra 10 pounds are... but you're just so dang good).

Anyway, I couldn't justify hauling all three kids out solely for a drive thru run, so I decided to hit the post office and the library as well.  At the post office, I got weirdly brave and went in without the stroller to save myself a bit of time.  Carrying Sayer, I led the girls in hand-in-hand.  Bean carried my package and C, a letter.  God apparently wanted to smile at me as there was absolutely no line and we were in and out in minutes. 

I packed them back into the car and headed toward the library, buoyant with confidence. 

I mean, really, I had just hauled three kids on an errand, no stroller, no tears, no whining, no drama.  Hot stuff, yes, that was me. 

So, we got to the library and after considering the success and ease of the earlier stroller-less outing, I decided to have another go. 

I carried all 24 pounds of Mr. Meatball in one arm and led the girls by the other hand.  This time Bean carried the library bag.  The empty library bag. 

And all in all, the library went well.  Then I realized that I had to pick up Meatball in one arm and 154 pounds of library books in the now VERY full library bag in the other.  And somehow I needed to manage to make sure that my daredevil second born wouldn't go skipping off across the parking lot.  Also, all the while, I needed to try to hurry my dawdling first born from her flower smelling tendencies. 

It was like herding cats.  Sayer continually took my sunglasses off and tried to smash them back on my face, complicating the whole line of sight thing.  C insisted in walking the curb instead of on the sidewalk.  And with every warning to please get back on the sidewalk, she dipped her toe onto the asphalt below and grinned at me, daring me to make a move to grab her. 

Somehow, we made it to the car unscathed. 

As I was lifting Sayer into his seat, I noticed a piece of the fruit leather that I had handed him after the post office to quiet his squawking when he noticed the girls had one and he didn't.  (Oh yes, that stage has finally started and it's de-LIGHT-ful.  Or not). 

I grabbed it and flung it over my shoulder. 

Now, I live on a dirt road.  When I get the kids out of the car and notice some remnant of snack in their seats, I toss it out onto the gravel or grass.  Squirrel food, you know? 

Except...  I wasn't in my driveway.  I was parked next to another car. 

I heard a weird THWACK sound and slowly turned my head around.  The renegade fruit leather was neatly stuck to the side window of a honkin' white sedan parked next to my Swagger Wagon.

I cast a furtive glance around the parking lot and noticed a older woman headed towards me with her keys in hand.  With my back smashed up against the sticky window, I swiped my hand back and forth, trying to find the stupid fruit leather.  With each motion, the muttered words under my breath grew a bit more furtive and a lot more colorful.  After 67 unsuccessful sweeping motions, I finally smacked it to the ground and then rubbed my shirt on the window to get the last of the residue.

From the safety of my front seat, I scrutinized the window.  Satisfied that all evidence of the trespassing fruit leather had been removed, we hightailed it for home.

I'm still not sure whether that car belonged to the woman walking towards us... we escaped a bit too quickly.  If it was and she happened to catch sight of my frantic actions, the only thing we left behind was a good story for the woman to tell about the frazzled looking mom in a blue van doing a weird bear tree shimmy.