It's Not All Bad Part 2

I had the day planned out perfectly:  swim class, then grocery shopping, unpack the groceries, mix up a batch of banana muffins, pack while they baked, water the garden, tend to the animals and be on our way down to Mom's by 1:00 p.m.

I got as far as swim class.

On our walk home from the Y, in typical Dia fashion, we pretended to be something.  This time she was a butterfly and I was Heimlich from Bug's Life (figures that she cast me as the chubby, daft one).  She fluttered and soared all the way home, taking breaks as her wings got tired or to encourage me (as Heimlich) to keep going... just a bit farther ... and then?  Boom.  She tripped over something and hit the cement hard.  Very hard.

In the scheme of major injuries, this was minor, but it sent Dia 'round the bend.  I'll give her that her knee bruised instantly and the scrape was a bleeder and it probably hurt to holy heck and back.  Still, her hysterics and the clean-up put us behind schedule in a major way.  Grrr-arrrr.

I switched gears a little and put off the grocery shopping to Monday and continued on with the plan. Banana muffins?  Check.  Pack while they baked?  Check.  Water the garden?  Check.  Tend to the animals?  Aaaaannndddd... halt.

Albert, the invisa-kitten, had disappeared under the bed.  While this isn't new, he's lived under my bed since he arrived Tuesday night, I didn't need him there right at that particular moment.  I had a plan, you see (yes, another plan!), that I would coax him into being social by plying him with Gourmet cat food.  The plan I'd been employing, was one where Dia and I would sit on the floor next to the dish of wet, delicious kitten food, and read a book.  Albert would come out and eat the food and we would leave him to eat it.  We wouldn't pet him or move much, but just let him see that being around people was safe.  The problem on Saturday afternoon, however, was that I still needed to give him his ear drops before we left.  It would defeat my fabulous plan if I enticed him with Royal Canin babycat food and then capture him to dose him with funky ear drops.  Sigh.  Yet I had no time at this point to dilly-dally.  Sigh again.  Another plan failed.  Grrrr-arrrrrrh!

So with another delay under our belt we were finally on our way.  We got as far as getting in the car. 

Mom's house is only a 90 minute drive, but you never know about traffic and so I brought along the portable DVD player for Dia.  For whatever reason, despite going in effortlessly each and every time on our vacation, the dang.thing.wouldn't.install.properly.and.I.was.getting.more.and.more.pissed.off.with.every.failed.attempt. and.I.was.beginning.to.break.into.a.sweat.from.the.stifling.heat.in.the.garage
and finally I tossed the DVD player on the seat, saying GRRRRR-ARRRR out loud in a fit of utter frustration.

"Mom," Dia said "Om mani padme hum."  (Brief pause) "It always works, Mama.  Om mani padme hum."

I took a breath.  "Om mani padme hum."  She was right.  As always.  And the silly thing installed right that time and, after a "Good job, Mom!" from Dia (that I returned with giving the credit to her for calming me down) we were finally, finally on our way.

I just needed gas.

The Shell station was packed and, after waiting for a pump, I pulled in and swiped my card ... and swiped my card... and.  OH FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.  The card reader acted like it was working, but it was not working.  Or, if it was, it wasn't going to allow me to actually pump the gas for another  hour or so.  Like an idiot, I tried a few more feeble attempts at getting it to read before giving up, locking Dia in the car (she was happy watching Land Before Time) and sprinting to the cashier. 

"Pump 5 won't read the card." I announced.
"Yes we know," said the incredibly helpful cashier.  "We don't know what's wrong with it because we aren't getting any messages.  Most of the pumps are doing that right now."
(Well, that explains why the gas station was so backed up.)
"OK, well can you take my card here then?"
"Yes," said the wonderfully attentive employee "but we're in the middle of a shift change right now so it'll be like 10 minutes or so."
(What the...?)
"I have my little girl in the car and can't just leave her there for 10 minutes!  Can't you just take a $20 and activate the pump?"
"No."
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
I went back to the pump, grumbling.

I noticed some guy pestering the other patrons with a box of something or other he was selling and I prayed he didn't approach me.  I swiped my card one more time and stood back waiting when a woman walked up to me and said "Are you having problems with your card?"  I thought "Oh great, she's with this guy selling whatever."  Sourly, I looked at her and said "No, it's the pump."
"Oh," she said "I thought you were having problems with your card."
"No, my card is fine."
"It's the pump then?"
"Yes"
"Well, just in case" she said "here's a $20.  I'm a mom too and I've been there.  We gotta' help each other out."
Her outstretched hand discretely held the bill and my heart just fell.  I felt like such a jerk.
"No, no, no!" I said, refusing the money "it really is the pump, but thank you SO so much.  I'm OK as far as the cash goes, but that was the sweetest thing to do.  Thank you so much."

And with that the pump clicked on, I filled my gas tank and was on my way.  I should have talked to her more - should have told her how she just totally turned my day around, should have said more than my weak 'thank you.'  I ran into some major traffic jams that, in my previous mindset, would have put me over the edge.  Instead I kept recalling back to the extreme generosity and kindness of a perfect stranger - a moment of angelic grace.

I am so blessed.

(Oh, and Albert is no longer the invisi-cat.  He's coming around quite well and, in fact, is laying at my feet right now.)