I think there’s something wrong with my brain.
Wednesday came and for the most part it was just a regular day. Until the new car was stolen.
Except, that’s not what happened.
My day started out relatively normal. 😏 I went to the chiropractor, got adjusted, went home and booked a massage for the next day at a place in my ‘hood not requiring battling traffic to get to, had a healthy lunch.
Later in the evening, I had to go to my 6th grader’s school for curriculum night.
We drove up a street parallel to her school instinctively knowing that parking would be a problem closer to the school. There’s usually a spot on that particular street we were driving on, except today there wasn’t. Or, there was, but right at the bottom of the street, not near the top which would have been closer.
So I looped around. Drove past the school, verified we were correct about the parking situation, and came back up that same street we had just been on before.
But this time we picked the first open spot in front of a house with a cute garden in front.
Off we marched to school, met the new teacher, yada yada yada and then we came back to pick up the car to drive home.
I had the keys in my hand and after a while started pressing the button for the lights to start flashing on the car.
This is a particularly handy feature when you’re in large parking lots, like at Costco or Walmart…but also handy when you have a long row of parked cars on a residential street in a high density neighbourhood.
I pushed the button on the key chain and looked for the car’s flashing lights.
Only the car wasn’t there.
My daughter looked a little worried and so we decided to separate, her go south, me go north, and double checking each car that was parked along that road.
Did we miss it for some reason? Walk past it?
It wasn’t there.
“I remember this house,” my girl said to me and pointed to one with the little garden in front. “We parked here, didn’t we?”
That’s what I thought too.
Walking further south, we would have ended up on a major artery, the one that we would take west toward our home. This artery separates the neighbourhood into ‘north’ of Lakeshore, and ‘south’ of Lakeshore. The school is north, our house is south.
The car, my husband’s commuter car, was not on the street we were walking south on.
“Maybe we parked on another street,” I contemplated and we both simultaneously looked to the south to see if the traffic light was there.
We drove up through the traffic light.
It was there.
We were on the correct street.
I started to panic.
I called the husband and told him the car was stolen.
“Hold on,” he said. “Did you lock it?”
I did. But I left my bag with my wallet in the trunk…I didn’t need it while walking around the school, didn’t want to carry it.
“I’m coming,” he said, and I checked my phone for the time. He was at the diamond for my son’s semi final baseball game.
All this stuff was going through my mind:
- If the car was stolen, my wallet is also gone now. I keep not just my stuff in it, but all the kids stuff too. Health cards, credit cards, debit cards, licenses…
- The car was a gift to my husband from his sister who died after a very aggressive and short cancer illness earlier in the summer. She paid it off before she died and gifted it to her younger brother. The car therefore has sentimental value, to all of us.
- The car is brand new. Less than a year old. If it had been the 12 year old car we had recently sold, I may not have panicked quite as much (but still panicked because of the wallet, and also we can’t do the kids sports with just one vehicle).
At one point I thought maybe I had blocked someone’s driveway. I had done this before once, accidentally, and the guy was irate (with good reason). But both my daughter and I double checked this time, and we know for a fact we didn’t block someone in.
If we had, then someone could have called a tow truck…and the car wouldn’t be missing, just not here now. We’d have to go get it tomorrow at some storage place.
It was unlikely that this happened. If you need a tow truck in a metropolitan city like Toronto during rush hour (it was just about 6:45 pm) it would take minimum 45 minutes for a truck to get to the car. We weren’t in the school for long (I already knew one of her teachers and am familiar with all the rest of the school), so that situation was probably not a concern to be worried over.
Except, I had no car and I was freaking out.
Suddenly, I saw my daughter run further south along the street.
“Mom, I found it!” she yelled.
Seriously. What is happening to my brain?
We walked toward the car, I beeped it open with the key chain, and called the husband back.
“Never mind,” I said.
While we were driving home, I could tell in the rear view mirror that my daughter had a perplexed look on her little face.
“I don’t remember parking that far down the street,” she said. “I remember that one house with the garden…”
Maybe we’re both losing it. 😂😂😂
Then she said:
“Mommy, you really need that massage tomorrow.”
Yes, darling, I really, really do.