I hate the unexplained. I really do dislike not being able to figure out the greater mysteries of life. Like for example what happend to the cover of my Cure cassette about 15 years ago. I would bet that one of my brothers played a hand in it’s disappearance but they would never admit to it. It still rankles. When I was a kid I’d daydream about when I’d finally get to heaven I’d be able to ask God anything I wanted to. At the top of my list was who killed JFK and what happend to Amelia? Big questions from an eleven year old with a library full of Nancy Drew books. So now I have a new obssession I’ve dubbed the Mystery of the Bike-Trailer. This particular mystery lies in a bike trailer that has been left locked up at the bus stop since around August. I began noticing it when I was on my way to work in the morning. At first I thought it belonged to an energetic parent who was carting their kid around at 7am. Then I when I still saw it in the late afternoons I thought that said parent must be a workaholic because that is a heck of a long day for a little one. When I was on my way home from a late shift at midnight and I still saw it locked up I began to get suspicious.
Wondering who it belongs to and why they left it at the bus stop has driven me crazy. Who leaves a bike-trailer locked up for months at a time? Those trailers are expensive too. Did something happen to the parent? The kid? Did they bang their head and forget they had a trailer? Or a kid for that matter? The possibilities are endless. My friends of course think I’m nuts. Everytime I go by the bus stop I stare at it, point it out, snap a few pics…I am clearly re-living my Encyclopedia Brown wannabe days. Jazz is threatening to put a big sign on the trailer with my number on it so anyone that has any info can call me. I’m starting to consider it.
So the niece is still here. The sudden snowfall left us unprepared and because all she had was running shoes we had to stay inside all day. I convinced Jazz to come and take us out in the car tonight though, which I am forever grateful to her for. If I had to watch another Disney movie I was going to scream. Anyways I bought the girl a new umbrella the other day because she was acting like it was her hearts desire. Apparently all we need to be eternally happy is to wave around a pink and purple umbrella all day. Take note people. As we were getting ready to go out, Jazz is like “is she bringing that thing?” Meaning the umbrella. H just looks at her.
Me: Ummm… obviously, can’t you see it’s a magic umbrella? That’s where she gets her power from.
H: Yeah Auntie Jazz.
Jazz: I hate that umbrella.
I don’t know why, but Jazz has taken an unreasonable hatred to that umbrella …ella …ella. It makes her very angry. I don’t know if it’s the colour or what but there you have it.
So H walked around the mall with the freakin umbrella opened the entire time while Jazz snarled at her and I wished I was somewhere eating a big piece of cheesecake. It was a grand time.
As we were getting out of the car I took H out and then busied myself getting some bags out of the backseat. I heard H saying “Oooohh I want to make snow-angels!” , which I ignored because I was busy cursing the bags and the slush around my feet. I heard Jazz say “All right” and I ignored that too because my mind refused to believe that she would be that stoopid, because I was like it’s dark, it’s late, and the snow looks more like shit that snow at this point and she so did not just tell a ditzy 6 year old that she could make snow angels in the middle of the driveway … aaaagghhhhh!!
Me: Get UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: To make snow-angels you have to be in snow pants, boots, and preferrably snow that is not BROWN!!!!
Jazz is laughing hysterically. H is giggling and skipping around with a wet butt and the bloody umbrella waving in my face.
And I marvel at the Wisdom of the Universe – for I would so never have quit smoking if I had had kids earlier on.
If I ever do have them now, I’ll just be really fat from all the cheesecake I’ll be eating.
Putting H to bed tonight I crawl in beside her and almost pass out because she has plastered three different scented lotions on during her little night-time moisturizing ritual – it’s so strong it should be used as a weapon. She is suddling her bear in one arm and the stupid umbrella in the other and she has a car tucked under her belly. I read her Hansel and Gretel. We cuddle for a bit. She puts her face really close to mine and says “Auntie can you see me?”
H: Are you blind?
H: Well why do you wear glasses?
Me: Cause I’m blind
H: See, I told you
Me: Can I go now?
H: But I’m not comfortable with you gone
Me: But I want to read my book
H: You can read it here in bed with me
Me: I’ll fall asleep
H: You can sit up and read
Me: You’re just miss smarty smart, aren’t you?
She smiles smugly.
Me: I promise I’ll be back – if anyone scares you just use your umbrella to bash them over the head with ok?
I need chocolate stat.