Sometimes when I drop the kids off at school, they will try to open one door of the van, decide it’s too difficult, then go to the other side. That is what Ollie did this morning with the door on Sydney’s side. That turned out to be a problem.
Our sliding doors never used to be a problem with our old 2009 white Honda Odyssey, which had the magic of power doors. Sadly, our newer 2011 white Honda Odyssey (courtesy of a write off when someone blew through a slippery stop sign a few winters ago) does not have magical power doors. It has crappy manual doors that stick and don’t close easily.
I waved goodbye to Ollie and started to slowly drive up to the stop sign 30 feet away.
Sydney: “Dad, there’s a crack! I see a crack in the window!”
Me, a little suspicious: “A crack? Like in the glass?”
Sydney: “No it’s in the DOOR! And it got bigger!”
I looked back and saw no problem. Then the “open door” light on the dash popped up and I remembered Ollie trying that door first and realized the problem.
Me: “Oh, the door is open a crack. Don’t worry, it sticks there, I’ll fix it when I can get out.”
The intersection I rolled up to was a four way at the corner of Ruby and Wolseley Ave. It’s very busy right before school starts and manned by patrols each way. You have to concentrate pretty hard on which car’s turn it is, whether both sides of the street are open, and to not run over anyone in the process. Sometimes people become impatient and don’t wait their turn, or childless adults cross before the guards are ready, so I often avoid this intersection.
With cars lined up behind me, I watched hawk-like for my turn to safely cross. Finally the conditions were perfect: crossing guards closed on both sides of the street, and no hapless victim who is too act as a speed bump.
I got excited. I pulled forward with a pinch, just a PINCH too much gas. The look on the faces of the parents and children crossing the street must’ve been priceless as Syds door flew open with the vigor of a SWAT team assault. Instead of police in riot gear, the confounded pedestrians saw Sydney cackling her head off like a villain from 1960’s Batman.
Syd: “You said it wouldn’t open but it DID Daddy!” she squealed in rapture as her morning suddenly got more exciting. For the split second I glanced back I saw the crossing guard framed perfectly in Syd's open door, mere feet away. His gaping stare seemed to say 'this is only supposed to happen in video games!'
There was still no good place to stop with cars in front and back so we continued on in the breezy car. Eventually I was able to slow down as some vehicles ahead of me were going around parked cars. Looking at the sidewalk, I saw one of the more worry-prone parents I know from playgroups. Her eyes were fixed on the open door, jaw dropped and in a state of mild shock.
Me: “Hey, how’s it going? You mind closing this door for us?”
She came to her senses and rushed to the door.
Her: “I was wondering if you knew your door was open!”
Me: “Yep.” I said in a tone suggesting it was all part of my master plan. “Thanks! See you Thursday!” I said as she shut the door. She waved goodbye still wearing a look of shock and awe.
Later, as we pulled into the garage, the news came on the radio and the announcer said “Prime Minister Justin Trudeau is attending a meeting to help young Canadians find work”.
Syd: “OH NO! I’M young! I’m going to go to work!”
Apparently that news segment needed a trigger warning for my daughter.
Me: “It’s ok, when they said young they meant people around 18 years old.”
Syd: “That’s not young!”
I suppose age is relative. Still, she was very relieved not be subjected to the workforce until long into the future, a couple of years at least. There’s lots of time for her to figure out what she wants to do with her life.
Right before the news, a Tom Petty song was playing. It was “Into the Great Wide Open”, with lyrics like “The future is wide open”. It seems our car radio listens to our life and plays a satirical soundtrack. Even double entendres.
