We left Florida Tuesday after dinner and drove thru the night. Theoretically, we drive at night so that the girls will sleep during a large chunk of the trip. We had been spoiled on the trip down with an uneventful and easy 18 hour drive with dry roads and no traffic.
On the trek back North the rain started in central Alabama and didn't stop until Chicago. Although the temps stayed well above 40 (no worry about freezing rain or ice), the rain was coming down in thick sheets. It took every ounce of concentration to see the road and stay in the proper lane. Fortunately we had three drivers (thank you Uncle Adam!) and were able to rotate every two hours. Still, I was dead tired when we got home mid-afternoon on Wednesday.
Fast-forward to Friday at 1:30pm. The girls and I had finished lunch and were ready to head to a 2pm music class at Mitchell Park. As I reached for the car keys, I suddenly realized we were stuck.
Matt's truck battery died while we were away and wouldn't take a charge (I guess sitting in frigid temps for two weeks drains a battery). He took Debbie Dodge (the minivan) to work Thursday and Friday. I must have had a bad case of "jet lag" because the thought of how we would get to music class without a car never even crossed my mind. Maybe I was thinking we were still at our old house in Brookfield where we could walk or bike there?
I called Matt to see if, by some miraculous stroke of luck, he was working nearby. He wasn't. But he suggested I ask a neighbor for a ride. I looked across the street and saw that a fellow stay-at-home-mom was indeed at home. However, there were three more cars parked in her driveway and I remembered her saying that her sister from Montana was coming for a visit.
I'm not usually one to spring a favor on someone at the last minute (unless they are related to me by blood or marriage), but I figured I could just ask. Worse case scenario, she would say, "No."
The girls and I walked across the street and rang the doorbell. My neighbor, Angie, answered. I explained our predicament and Angie ushered us inside. She introduced us to her family - mom, two sisters and a half dozen little nieces and nephews. Then everyone jumped up to move their cars out of the way and to get two carseats into Angie's car (her kids are carseat graduates). Eventhough they were all very nice and friendly, I was feeling uneasy for causing such a fuss.
As we drove the 8 miles to music class, Angie told me how they'd kept an eye on our house while we were on vacation. (On the morning before we left, Angie and I were outside waiting for the school bus with our kids and I had casually mentioned to her that we were going out of town.) Angie and her husband shoveled the driveway when it snowed and parked one of their cars in our driveway so it wouldn't look like no one was home. I was surprised and didn't know what to say. I managed a weak, "Thanks, Angie."
When Angie dropped us off, she offered to give us a ride back after class. I thanked Angie for her kindness and told her we'd catch a ride with one of Jo's friends from music class.
For as long as I can remember, I've been a fiercely independent person. And yes, I know I'm a bit of a control freak. But today I realized that its perfectly ok to ask for help. Tomorrow the girls and I plan to bake a special thank you treat to bring over to our neighbor's house. According to Jo, that's a kind thing to do.
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