More Zany Mishaps in the Reimer Family

This morning Jess had to leave for work before I did. On these colder days I usually watch from the window as she goes through the entire rigmarole of depositing her lunch into the passenger seat, starting the car, plopping Charlie into his carseat, buckling him in, and scraping the windows – all of which activities are fair game on any given day. Evidently there are times in the past when Jess has been yelling for assistance while I’m already in the shower. This is why I watch, not just for amusement. So this morning as I observed Jess from the window this is what I saw (mind you it’s seven degrees Fahrenheit, snowing, and thirty-mph gusts of wind).

She opened the driver’s door and put her lunch in the car. Then she put the keys in the ignition and started the car. Then she closed the door to put Charlie in his carseat. She tried the back driver side door and it wouldn’t open. Through the window I heard the handle click, but the door wouldn’t open. So she opened the front driver’s side door and hit the unlock button and closed it. Same click, no open. I heard Jess give a groan of frustration (through the glass door, above the howling wind, from the third floor of our apartment building). Jess opened up the front driver side door again and hit the unlock button, carefully left it cracked open, and walked around to the back passenger side door. Click. No open. Then I watched her walk back around to the front driver side door, put Charlie down in the driver seat, and lean over the seatback to open the back driver side door. As she was doing this, the foot she had the most weight on slipped on some ice and her shin cracked down on the door frame. At this point Charlie started screaming. After watching Jess’s contorted body flail around for a few more moments, I saw the back door creak open. I also heard the ice and snow reluctantly pry away from the weather stripping. Jess picked up the screaming boy and began the process of buckling him into his carseat. A minute or two later they drove out of the parking lot, and I, feeling a little bad but also a little amused, went to take a shower.

Fast forward a little while to me walking down to my car to go to work. My front driver side door never opens from the outside, so getting into my car in the morning is always a little bit of an adventure. Usually I open the back driver side door, reach over the seat, and pop open the door from the inside. This is what I proceeded to do, but when I went to open the back driver side door, it was stuck from the cold and ice. When this happens (and it happens often) I just walk around the back of the car and slide in across the bench seat from the passenger side. Well, as I was doing this my foot slipped on a glassy smooth patch of ice concealed by the dusting of snow we received this morning. I planted my other foot to catch myself, but it also slipped and wham! I was flat on my back before I knew it. I came through with no injuries, thankfully, so I was able to get up and brush the snow off my clothes with little ado. I walked over to the passenger side front door and grabbed the handle to pull it open. When I did, my finger slipped off the cold metal, bent my fingernail back, and left the tip of my fingers stinging from the cold and the shock, like when you hit a baseball but you don’t really connect and your hands hurt real bad. Ouch! When I was finally able to open the door, get in, and start the car, I noticed that I had actually cracked the back driver side door open when I was trying to open it from the outside. I reached over the seat to slam it shut and noticed that the seat was, one, wet from all the rain we got yesterday and, two, covered with snow from the flurries this morning. (My back window is stuck about an inch down from the top and I can’t roll it back up, which makes for cold rides to work. The other side is the same but has a scarf stuffed into the opening.) Well, I managed to get the door open, but when I slammed it it wouldn’t shut. So I slammed it again. And again. And again. I slammed the door about two dozen times, but it just kept bouncing back open. So I got out and slammed it from the outside about a dozen more times (I hoped our neighbors who live below us with the stupid yappy dog were trying to sleep while I was doing this). I was just about to give up, when for some inexplicable reason the latch caught. The door was closed! Then I realized that I had closed my driver side door. You know, the one that doesn’t open from the outside. I was ready for the the deadly-slick patch of ice and the finger-bruising door handle, and they didn’t cause me any more bodily harm as I walked back around the car to trundle back over the passenger seat and into the driver position.

Don’t you wish you lived in Chicago in February?


4 comments so far

  1. lucashannon on

    That was quite the story…and no I don’t wish Iived in Chicago in February. :)

  2. Dad on

    Don’t you wish you had a house with a two-car garage (or that your dad hadn’t helped saddle you with an old car with low-function doors and windows?

  3. MarilynR on

    February is not nearly so cold in Kansas!

  4. ansley on

    You have made me decidedly happier to be wearing shorts and a t-shirt on this February day in SW Florida.

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