Another interrupted Disney post. For some reason I just cannot finish a Disney post 🙁
Yesterday, my dear sweet loving husband says “Babe, I’ll take the kids to the grocery store, so you can have some time to yourself.” “Just relax.” After a few are-you-sures and don’t forget this (even though he had a list) I sent all four of them on their way. I sat on the couch in control of the television, no Disney. That’s right I didn’t have to watch Jessie or Kickin’ It, I put on BRAVO to watch some good ol’ trashy tv. However, I couldn’t just lay idle, I decided to finally start my Disney posts that have been halted for sometime now. (Disney still one.)
I began my post on my iPad while watching Bravo, and then this face
peers at me. I know that face, so I stop my post and say “Come on boy, let’s go.” I grab my dog’s leash, I put on my sandals, and lock the door behind us. We go for a quick walk and when I return I type in our code to our front door. The numbers turn red and the door does not budge. I know I haven’t lost my mind I’ve used the code to this door COUNTLESS times!! I try again, again, and again… nothing! I don’t have my phone. It’s just me and my dog in the beautiful South Carolina humidity.
I do what any self-respecting Texas girl does, I check all the windows and look for a way to break in… shockingly I am unable to. I thought I could get MacGyver-like taking off my Panama straw hat removing a bobby pin from my head, the bobby pin doesn’t work. At this point my fur baby is panting and looking at me like I’m crazy, he looks at the door, and then he looks at me. I could feel him cursing at me in his cute little furry head. He looked at me and I know he said “B**CH are you crazy?” This of course came after I said, “Come on boy let’s go for a walk.”
The two of us went on a nice l o n g sweaty walk. I stopped and let kids pet him, because at this point he didn’t care, he would lay down anywhere and let anyone pet him. The kids were doing him a favor by giving him a breather 🙂 I get back home and my husband and kids are still not home 🙁 I grab my hose and start cleaning the sandy beach shoes on the front porch, of course offering up water to my fur baby. As I’m turning off the hose, I hear my truck, finally there they are!
I proceed to tell my husband the whole story in a fast condensed version because my worried Dad is on the cell phone. My dad had already called my phone and obviously I couldn’t answer, therefore he called my husband worried about the storm that is coming. My husband tries the code. Nothing. I already know he doesn’t have the house key because the house key is on MY key chain, which is tucked safely in my PURSE.
We call our landlord. Landlord, that just seems barbaric, right? Our landlord says he “thinks” he has the key, so we go to his
mansion house, all six of us in a truck filled with groceries, to pickup the keys he thinks are ours. We get home and they are NOT ours. We have to call a locksmith. The locksmith tells us he’ll be there in thirty minutes. At this point the kids haven’t eaten dinner, I feel slimy and gross, and it’s approaching their bedtime. The six of us wait for the locksmith in our driveway.
When he finally shows up he cannot pop open our front door because of the type of lock we have, he gets in through the back. However, it took him around what felt like 15-20 minutes to do that, he kept going back and forth to his van to get more tools. It cost us $85, to open the door. EIGHTY FIVE DOLLARS!! However, we probably would’ve paid anything at that moment, honestly. It’s 8:45 p.m and we are all putting away groceries and I still have to feed these kids. They did snack in the truck, and while we were in the truck they all informed me the deli counter hooked them up. It’s now 9:00 PM, and I’m making all of them sandwiches and myself a salad. I’m drained. Because although that was eventful, the day I had before was MUCH MORE draining.
On Tuesday… I became an official resident of South Carolina. Becoming a resident was a process! My husband and I both could not register our vehicles or get a license without our social security cards, which we both had lost. This meant ladies and gentlemen we had to take a FAMILY field trip to the social security office! I don’t like to be a Negative Nancy but let’s just say the social security office is NOT the hot spot. The place was packed, people were waiting outside, and the smell that perfumed the air slightly had a hint of a smell I knew…. it was a quite unpleasant smell. I don’t believe the air conditioning was running at its full potential, which didn’t help. However, I was proud of the kids, they didn’t stare or whine, they sat still. I did what any wise Mama would do in a situation like this, handed over the iPad and iPhones. Once we finally received our SS cards we had to drive back into town to the DMV. My husband and I were worried we were going to hear the score of the USA vs. Belgium soccer game… we didn’t listen to the radio.
The DMV wasn’t as bad…. I didn’t say it was good… it wasn’t as bad. My husband and I had to go through a quite thorough process. Illinois uses stickers for drivers’ license renewals and the DMV did not think it looked legit, they had to double-check. My marriage license didn’t clearly show my name, although my brand spanking new social security paper did!! We stood at window one for at least 30 minutes!
With all the back and fourth in the heat, and seating in a sticky stinky building, I still had to take a picture! I just knew my bangs were a hot mess, I could feel it. I turned over my license and was given a new one and a new voter card is on its way. America didn’t win the soccer match, but that’s okay, I’m still proud. Did it add to my emotional day, yes, but watching the game at home on my couch with my family was everything.
Hopefully today is better, the hurricane is not supposed to impact us (fingers crossed). Tomorrow, we’ll celebrate our first Fourth of July here in South Carolina, I’m excited to see how that plays out. I will admit I miss Illinois, we always had the best time on Independence Day, there.
© 2014, Dean @Mrs. AOK, A Work In Progress. All rights reserved.