April 7, 2001, started like any other Saturday. I had no
idea what was day had in store for me. If I had, I would have stayed in
bed.
BYU was hosting an Easter Egg Hunt for the local children on
Maeser Hill. Even though it was cold and rainy, my family decided
to brave the weather and go anyway. Besides, maybe fewer families would
show up and my kids could get more eggs!
As is the case with all public Easter Egg Hunts, don’t go if you
aren’t going to be on time. They last on average about three minutes, so
latecomers need not bother. In our haste to get five small kids dressed
in raincoats, hats, and gloves, I forgot my glasses. I am not totally
blind, but I can’t see far away without them. I did not think it would be
a big deal since I wasn’t the one driving. Little did I know that this
would start a chain of events that would lead to one of my most embarrassing
moments… ever.
The Easter Egg Hunt started at 8:55 a.m. and ended at 8:59
a.m. It seemed like a waste of putting on raincoats, hats and gloves, to
just turn around and go home, so we decided to walk around campus for a
while. We dropped our goodies off at the car, which were plentiful.
(I was right about families staying away because of the rain.)
As we are putting our stash in the car, we notice a family jumping
out of their car and running up the hill towards the Easter Egg Hunt.
Three little kids had their baskets in tow. My husband says, “There won’t
be anything left, lets give them some of ours.” We told our kids about
the late family and they eagerly agree to donate some of their treats.
Fortunately one of the windows was partially rolled down so we could throw eggs
and candy into their car, aiming for the two car seats.
Now, that was a good deed right? Shouldn’t the heavens have
smiled down upon me for donating some of our goodies to that family who missed
the Easter Egg Hunt? The angels should have said, “What a nice mother for
thinking of others, we are going to make sure nothing goes wrong for her for
the rest of the day.” I think so too, but Nooooo.
Instead they said, “Why is that woman throwing hard-boiled eggs
into someone else’s car? Why isn’t she rolling up their window? Can’t she see it’s
raining? Oh, she’s going to get it now!” Naively I head back up the hill
to campus.
We decide to check out the newly renovated library.
Apparently they weren’t quite finished, because as we walk in, there are signs
posted everywhere explaining that no water or bathrooms are in use. We
walk all over the library looking at each floor, trying to remember how it was
when Bradford and I went there 10 years before.
After a while, my four-year-old son, Bruce announces, “I have to
go to the bathroom.” Remembering all the bathrooms are out of order, we decide
to go to another building hoping that my son has given us enough notice.
Bradford
then says, “I’ll go get the car, you take Bruce to the bathroom, and I’ll pick
you up in front of the student union building.” What I should have said
was, “No, I’m not leaving your side!” Instead I say, “Sounds good to me.”
Bruce and I
go one way; Bradford and the rest of the kids go another. I head for the
student union building, or the “Wilk”, hoping it hasn’t changed so much since I
was an undergrad that I won’t be able to find a bathroom.
Success! We easily find a restroom. And because that
went so quickly I decide we have time to look around so I can relive some
memories.
After what seems like long enough, I decide to go out and wait for
Bradford.
Much to my surprise I see that Bradford is waiting for us. I begin to open the
sliding door and once again am surprised to find the door locked. “What
is Bradford doing? Can’t he see that I am trying to put Bruce into the
van?” I peer through the windows and see that all the doors are locked. I walk
up to the front to ask Bradford to unlock the doors, when the window starts to
roll down. I poke my head inside to say, “Why won’t you unlock the
doors?” Then I scream and jump back, “AAAHHHHH!” There was another
man inside my van! Then it hits me, THIS IS NOT MY VAN! I am trying to get into
someone else’s car.
It just so
happened that a man with kids was waiting for his wife, in a Ford Windstar the exact
same color as ours. I quickly gather myself together and say, “I’m
sorry. I thought this was my van.” The man looks at me and says…
nothing.
Not a “That’s okay, it could have happened to anyone.” Or a
“Don’t worry about it.” Or even a “Hey lady! Get away from my van!”
Silence. After a moment of us just staring at each other I try to break
the ice, “How about you take me home, and when your wife gets here my husband
can take her home?”
Okay, I admit not one of my funniest lines, but worth a small
chuckle at least. He continues to stare at me, not saying a word.
At this point I realize there’s nothing left for me to do but back away and run
into the building. As I enter the glass doors, a woman about my age walks
out and into that van.
As they drove off, I imagined I could hear what he was telling his
wife. “You won’t believe what just happened. Some lady just tried
to break into the van.”
She gasps, “What did you do?”
“I locked the doors and kept praying that she’d just go away.”
So if you are ever at a dinner party and some guy starts to tell
you a story about a soaking wet crazy woman who tried to get him to take her
home, will you please tell him that I am not a psycho? Explain to him that I
didn’t have my glasses, it was raining, and he looks very much like my husband,
especially in that green jacket.
I have vowed to never again throw hard-boiled eggs into somebody
else’s car, and I never have.
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