We just moved into a little suburban ranch-style house in December. I'm still getting used to all the bumps and squeaks in the night, and one thing I haven't attempted to master yet is the garage. It's a small, one-car garage with a door opener. Wee! However, having to cart around two kids and a dog, I drive a Dodge Journey, which is not a small car. I did many a half-assed measurement, holding my hands apart and trying to size up the width of the garage versus the width of my vehicle, and it just didn't look like a promising endeavor. So I said "Eh, to heck with it" and settled on remaining parked in the driveway. More room for my boxes of pots and miscellaneous kitchen equipment that way.
Enter: Midwest Winter.
After weeks and weeks of crazy December days in the 60's where we're stringing up lights in our tshirts, the ice finally rolls in. "Winter mix" they call it. Way to be festive, Weather Channel!
Nothing sounds more fun than standing in the 12 degree morning air, scraping ice off my windshield while my toddler stands at the front door and wails at me, I admit. But because I usually don't have time in the mornings to participate in such fun activities, I decided to try the impossible, bending the laws of physics to make my car fit into this teensy tiny garage.
I played a little "Garage Tetris", moved some stuff around, and stacked things artfully in teetery towers. I folded in my rearview mirrors and handed my son my emergency call list in case peril should occur.
I skated carefully to the car in my pink bathroom slippers, trying not to fall on the ice and concuss myself, and as I climbed into the driver's seat and opened the garage door, there stood my 6 year old son at the far end of the garage, in the doorway leading to the kitchen, clad in his Thomas pajamas, watching intently. Fantastic. If I rip my car and/or the house apart, he'll be my star witness. At least I know I can buy his silence with a lollipop if I have to.
I started the engine and peeked out the window, trying to align my car with the weensy little opening. It was like threading a needle. Or putting on Spanx. I called out, "Am I going to hit?" and my son waved and called, "No, you're doing great, Mom!" And then I realized I'm relying on the perspective skills of a child who still draws his self portraits with stick arms and giant balloon heads. Whatever. So I slo-o-o-wly pulled in while my son waves me on like a tiny tarmac attendant.
And I didn't hit.
Victory is mine.
We won't talk about me getting stuck between the car door and the wall and my son having to pry me out with a crowbar and a jar of crisco.
It's good to be back, friends. I'm having a cake truffle giveaway on Facebook, so be sure to go check it out!
* You get one entry into the drawing for each of the following tasks:
- Post on the Happy Baker's wall, telling me about a dish or dessert that gives you a warm fuzzy feeling or triggers a special romantic memory.
- Post a photo of that dish/dessert along with your post.
- Add my Etsy shop to your favorites *
- Tag my shop in a Twitter post
* If you've already favorited my Etsy shop, send me an Etsy convo and let me know.
The drawing will be done by www.random.org, and the winner will be announced on Facebook and Twitter on February 1st. Good luck!