We went to pick Grandpa up from the airport today. The plan was to pick him about just before 1:00, stop for lunch at Mimi’s Cafe, and head home. Bubble saw the maraca she had made in preschool last week (remind me to write sometime about Bubble starting preschool). She wanted to bring it to show Grandpa.
Got to the airport, got grandpa, and headed home (there’s a Mimi’s on the way).
then the comedy of errors:
1) I take the 15 (That would be I-15 for you midwesterners who don’t put articles in front of your highway names) South instead of North (old, old, old habit–like a decade ago–I’ve done it one other time in the last few years, though.). Go a good 8 or 10 miles before I realize it. Still makes more sense to turn around and go directly north and then east than continue south and cut back up northeast.
2) Bubble gets carsick. Pull off the freeway into a parking lot and clean her up. Put the maraca out of the way on the roof of the car.
3) Get about 3 miles down the road and on the next freeway when I can’t remember putting the maraca back in the car. Don’t see it.
4) Pull off, check the top of the car–nothing, of course. Check the trunk in case I put it there. Nothing.
5) Drive back to the parking lot we’d been in. Find nothing. Grandpa gets out to look. Bubble wants to get out too. As I turn around to unbuckle her carseat, I discover the maraca safe and sound tucked between carseats.
6) Get everyone back in and drive to Mimi’s.
Squeak had fallen asleep before we ever got to the airport and remained so until we went back to the parking lot to look for the maraca.
Nothing was a big deal, but it was an hour of feeling slightly off center as I drove here and there and tried to make good decisions and couldn’t quite grasp it.