A day in the life of Andy. Retro.
I take my three young children for a walk in the park. Yolanda to the left, Yanaika to the right of the pram with little Damian sleeping peacefully as we saunter along. We stop by the pond and admire the ducks, call them, feed them, chase them. And when we tire of this game we move on. We return to the car and I place each child into his/her childseat, settle in behind the wheel, check the rearview mirror and see a buggy parked behind the car.
Lack of sleep and nerves of paper, I flip: “What the crap, who in thier right mind parks thier buggy behind my car right when I want to hit reverse? Stupid playground Mama, you think this place belongs to you? Can the Diva now remover her friggin* buggy…”
Yolanda is looking rather curiously at me. Yanaika is grinning and Damian is coo-ing and ahh-ing from his infant carrier. And I wait. And wait. And wait. After 100 Minutes I unbuckle myself and gracefully exit my vehicle, quite ready to find the Diva and give her a piece of my mind. (The nerve of some people… really.)
Ready to let the sh*t hit the fan I cut myself short as this thought blazes through my mind: “That looks just like Damian’s buggy!” and… well I give myself a smack across the face and toss the buggy in the trunk.
Yes. Sometimes this stuff happens.