Monday, September 28, 2009

When One Door's Open, Another Door Closes

After attending an assembly to honor our very own middle daughter as Student of the Month, the husband and I had a hot date Friday night.

That is, until our babysitter canceled on us and we had to make alternate plans.

Still, we had a hot date. We just took 3 extra little people along.

We enjoyed an evening of ballet under the stars. It truly was a lovely evening once the evening air finally cooled off after a day of 105 degree temperatures.

We spread our denim blankets and hunkered down for an evening of pirouettes, jetes and plies.

As we waited for the ballerinas to take the stage, a trio of women claimed a little lawn space near our denim-claimed area. The husband politely moved a corner of blanket out of the way so the women would be allowed a bit more footage. One of the women pulled the blanket back her direction and plopped her little backside right down on the denim- inches from the husband's lap. And there she remained- sharing our little denim blanket for the duration of the ballet. Never mind that we could have used the space she occupied.

The dancers were beautiful and the children sat at attention, noting each leap with sheer pleasure. Oldest daughter's only lament was that she didn't wear that tutu that she originally thought to wear. Middle daughter spread out on her cute little tummy facing the stage, her face in her hands and thrilled with each graceful dancer. And she kept reminding us that it was our pleasure to have the Student of the Month in our presence.

Once the last ballerina had taken her final curtsy, the husband and the children ventured out to see if they could discover a little geocache treasure hidden right behind the stage. As they treasure hunted, I laid on the blanket and gazed up at the stars. Because, who wouldn't take advantage of a night under the stars? And I could see just about 15. Darn those city lights!

But, while I was laying there, I heard little feet running up to me and expected that my little family was returning. The closer the footsteps got, the less they sounded like any of my little footsteppers. And sure enough, a little girl ran right up to me, looked in my face and turned and ran the other way, realizing I was not her mommy.

Following an unsuccessful hunt, my brood returned and we made our way to the sea of cars in the parking lot. As we got nearer and nearer to where we parked, we could see a white van- its sliding door wide open. Could that be ours? Um, yes it could. And it was.

After inspecting the car, we found everything to be intact- right down to the checkbook in the glove compartment. And decided that we must have left the door open. Who does that? And we decided that it was a good thing that the ballet took place far away from our side of the valley, because had we been in our neck of the woods, that car would have been stripped clean. Plus, I think we were blessed.

Once we pulled in our garage and began unloading the car, I went to the trunk to retrieve the blankets. I had an armful and decided to take in half of the load and return for the rest. On my way in the house, I cautioned the children to leave the garage door open because the trunk of the car was still up.

No sooner had I made it inside the house than I hear the husband yelling something with voice elevated at unnatural decibels. And I didn't have to guess twice what the situation was. Our very own Student of the Month had pushed the garage door remote button and the door had crunched against the trunk.

And to make matters worse, I also sternly scolded middle daughter.

I don't know why I did that. I'm fairly certain she understood that she had done something wrong. I should have left it alone. Lesson learned: no need to harp on the children- they know when they have done wrong.

The garage door was bowed a bit, but there was no mark on the car. All was ok afterall- and truly- the car is just a thing. Nothing with lasting significance. I'm pretty sure that our relationship with little daughter will far outlast that of our relationship with the white people mover that is our van.

Another lesson learned: when one door's open, another door closes.

Tune in Tuesday for another awesome guest poster!! You know you can't wait. And neither can I!


Jessica said...

my husband did the same thing once--and i believe i learned the same lesson!

Ruth P said...

How was the ballet? We almost went! I am glad that everything turned out OK. Kids are definitely more important than stuff. I relearn that on a daily basis. :)

Cynthia said...

Sort! Clever title. I don't want to even think about how many times the garage door has closed on our van. Trust me, it's worse when the kids open the back door of the van and THEN the garage door goes up!

I'm glad your kids were so good at the ballet. Mine would never sit still and just enjoy it. I'm even more impressed that you could get your husband to GO to the ballet.

Nathan said...

Well, doors are just getting left open all over the place. We had one on our car left slightly ajar.

It killed the battery.

I jumpstarted it today, so all is well, but it was touch and go for a while.

Glad yours worked out too.

Elizabeth said...

Glad to hear that all of yor stuff was still intact! The garage door closing on something has always been a concern of mine- but I fear more that I might squish a kid, than a door!

Ritsumei said...

This is such a fun read! I can just see the little ones on the blanky... and the guest as well. Some people are so strangely comfortable in other people's space. I don't think I'll ever get that.

I also stopped by to say thanks for entering my give-away and good luck!