Abigail is only 10 years old and already has had to have the police and paramedics come and crash her party. Oh, there's a story in here, you betcha. This does not bode well for her teenage years.
For the third and final phase of Abigail's birthday celebration, we decided to take her and one of her friends out for lunch and pedicures. She also wanted to bring along Leah and Grandma to help celebrate her girlishness. Afterwards there was much partying to be had in the backyard swimming pool.
We decided that she and her friend were to come home together after school and we would leave right away for lunch. This would give us a good amount of time to load us all up, have a relaxed pasta lunch, and meet grandma at the Spa for the pedi's.
We didn't include the Hudson factor.
I had arranged with my neighbor to watch the boys while we went to the spa. But just before that we had some last minute running around to do before the girls came home, and while running Holden fell asleep in his carseat. So, I was gathering up the boys' lunch supplies and putting them in the car, keeping the fan blowing and Holden asleep in there while also blowing up the pool in the garage. I'm a super multitasker.
But, now hold on to your seats kids, Hudson spotted the popsicles I had put in the car to take over to my neighbors. He jumped into the car and started getting the popsicles out. Right at that exact moment the pool inflated just enough to unfold completely, hitting the garbage can, and the garbage can then hitting the open car door and slamming it shut. It was like that lame mousetrap game that I now hate more than ever.
You know what happened, right? Of course you do. It's so obvious that then Hudson locked the car doors. And remember I had the fan running to keep Holden cool while still asleep and still IN THE CAR? Which means that, yes, the keys are locked in there with Hudson and the baby. I start the begging and pleading process.
Me: Please, Hudson, please. Just push that cute little button right there. Go on! You can do it!
Hudson waving the popsicle in the window: Popsicle!!
Me: Yes, Buster. I will open your popsicle when you open the door, please!
Hudson: NO! Eepey popsicle! (which is Hudson speak for open popsicle!)
Me: Please, please Hudson. Just push that button right there. In fact, push any button! Unroll the windows, anything! Just push a button please.
Hudson: NO!
Me: Buster, you need to push the buttons right here.
Hudson begins holding the steering wheel and jumping up and down on the driver's seat. Then he cranks the radio up FULL BLAST and still says: NO!
At this point he can't hear me begging him to open the door because the radio is up too loud. He keeps asking me to open his popsicle and when I point to the button on the door, he just shouts back NO! I know what I have to do. I call the police and ask them to come out and get the kids out of the car. At this point Abigail and her friend are home watching all of this unfold. Once connected to the police department they then alert the fire department who then also alerts the paramedics. Because, you know, apparently it's bad for kids to be locked in the car in the middle of summer with the windows up and stuff. Even if they have popsicles in there with them. Whatever.
A few minutes later we begin to hear the sirens and know what's coming. All vehicles with any kind of flashing lights on them and within 100 miles pulled up in front of our house. About 400 firemen (okay maybe just 7 or 8), plus a Sheriff and a handful of paramedics start circling the car. This is when Hudson begins to panic. He looks at all the guys and then to me and now he knows he's in some serious trouble. The firemen jimmy the lock in record time and get both the boys out of the car just as Hudson started crying. It was kind of sweet to see these big firemen in their suspenders and boots get the baby out of his carseat, cuddle him and make sure he was okay.
After I settle Hudson down I make him apologize and give all the firemen, paramedics, and police high 5's.
This is when the thought occurred to me to start the car up before all these supermen left. I actually heard this thought inside my head. "Start the car while they're all here and make sure that it's still in working order". I really did hear it. Right in my head.
But, no, I decide. Let's just get them on their way so that we can get on our way as well. If we hurry, we can still make it right on time for the pedicures and have lunch afterwards instead. We distribute the boys with their lunch and the now infamous popsicles and load up the girls to take off.
Now, remember how I left the fan running? And remember how Hudson turned on the radio? And how these were both going while I was pleading with Hudson to push the button, call the police, wait for the firemen, and then have the locked picked? You know what that does to a battery, right? Mmm hmmm. Dead. Turn the key, click, click, nothing kind of dead. Now we know why I heard that thought. I was being looked after, but ignored it in all my embarrassment and frustration.
Good times. No, no. Really, reeeeaaalllly good times.
Leah was in the backseat and started sobbing. Hysterically crying. Big fat tears, gasping for air, snot all over her face wailing. The sight of all the police and firemen had her freaked out enough already, but this sent her right over the edge. I begin calling neighbors again to see if anyone could come and jump the car. Another neighbor angel drives up into the driveway and we pop the hood to connect the dumb jumper cables. But this is when we discover that my battery is barely visible, and covered with all sorts of other internal car organs that make it impossible to "just jump it". She begins to look for the owner's manual while I keep trying to turn the beast over. We mess with the idiotic contraption for a bit, go back to read the manual for a bit, and then begin the expressing of colorful language (no, not really. I had two 10 year olds and a 4 year old on the edges of their seats. They would have DEFINITELY picked it up during that moment).
After leaving the heap alone for a bit with it's ridiculous hood open to allow us to just stare at the engine in disbelief, I try it one more time. It then miraculously decides to muster up some courage and whine and groan to life. Our appointment for the pedicures was at 1:15. We limped out of the driveway at 1:19 exactly. Nice. After calling grandma at the spa and having her relay the message there, we finally made it. The lovelies who did our pedi's took extra good care of us once they heard our tale of adventure.
The lessons here? Obviously I need one of those kid leashes for Hudson. Obviously. Next, if you happen to have firemen come to your house, once they have rescued your kids, see if they can do anything else for you while they are there. You know, like tighten a hinge, change a few sprinkler heads, or fix the soap dispenser in the kitchen sink. Something like that. And make sure that if you have a thought on specifically how they can help you whispered right into your thoughts, you ask them about it. I have a feeling that they'll oblige. Maybe not on the sprinkler heads, but the rest I bet they'll do.
Anyway, after "the man" came and busted up Abigail's little party, we had a nice day. Abigail ended up with aquamarine toes, Leah with navy blue, the friend with gold, and grandma with the never tried before, super adventurous color of plumby-mauve. She's a rebel, that one. It's a good thing we have a connection to the police now so we can reign her in if needed. I'll just put some more popsicles in the car and they'll be here in a jiffy.
For your information: After the reenactment of this most fun of days, the popsicle went missing in my car. Yup. Awesome.
