dear silly girl,
we woke up at 7:30 like we do every morning. i started the coffee maker, threw my clothes in the dryer to unwrinkle, and then stood in the living room like i was lost. waking up is a process for me. i used to have to be at work at 7:30 and, in those days, people didn’t speak to me until around 11 o’clock. a morning person, i am not.
after i was finished standing around in the living room, i got dressed, brushed my teeth, and painted my face. i put all of our stuff in the car and then came back in to wake you up. tea was begged for immediately. i changed you, got your cup, and we headed to the car. some mornings, i get to listen to my music. some mornings i have to listen to “all aboard the choo-choo train, all aboard the choo-choo train, all aboard the choo-choo train, all aboard, all aboard…” all the way to gran’s. currently, you love that song and want to listen to it on repeat. it is better than your last song hang-up: jeremiah peabody’s polyunsaturated, quick-dissolving, fast-acting, pleasant-tasting, green and purple pills by ray stevens. at first it was cute. and then it wasn’t.
anyway, we get to gran’s. i take you in, get you settled, and then you stand at the front door and wave at me so i’ll blow the horn as i drive past their house. you’re only there for about 3 hours, and you get plenty of quality time with gran and papa. they love you sooo much. you’re their “pet” great-grandchild, but we won’t tell.
i go to school, stop by the store to get you a prize, and head back to get you as quickly as possible. everyday, but today.
today, i met some people to sell your toddler bed to. It had never been slept in and was quite a steal.
the lady that i emailed said i would be meeting her son in a red toyota truck. i waited at the local hardees for him to arrive from toccoa, georgia. i only had to wait for about 20 minutes before a faded red miata pulled up beside me. i didn’t even give them a second glance because i thought, “surely not.” oh, but i was wrong.
“are you the lady i’m supposed to be meetin’?” said the driver of the teeny-tiny, red miata.
me: “uh, yeah. the lady i emailed said you would be in a truck. are you gonna be able to get this? it’s put together and there’s a mattress.”
miata dude: “oh i wasn’t able to get my brother’s truck, but i haul stuff in this car all the time.”
in my head: “sure ya do.”
i get out of the car, open the back, look at the bed, look at the little red miata, and wonder how i was the only one doubting that this was gonna work.
i handed him the mattress and pulled out the bed. it was roughly three and half to four feet long. the trunk that they had popped open was roughly a foot deep. now, i’m no math wiz, but c’mon.
he paid me and i got back in the car. i sat there for a moment contemplating if i should wait to be sure that they could get the toddler bed in the car at all. but it was hot and humid, and i was over it.
i backed out and rolled my window down. “do you need a screwdriver or anything?” i asked, very much doubting the mathematical geniuses i was apparently selling the bed to.
“no, we’ll figure it out.”
i glanced at the car as i started to pull away. if i could have discreetly taken a picture of what i saw, i would have. the bed was placed in the tiny trunk. three feet of bed was sticking straight up out of it. redneck dude who was with the driver was pulling something apart with his teeth. a hardees worker and an rv owner were looking in our direction.
i decided not to stay. i didn’t want to seem apart of the decision-making that was taking place in the hardees parking lot.
sometimes, stupid is as stupid does.
part of me wishes that i would have pulled into the spinx across the road and watched them leave. if i were a betting woman, i’d say that toddler bed never made it to toccoa. if it did, i’d almost bet that it didn’t end up there in one piece. bouncing down the highway tends to leave a dent or two.
moral of the story: anytime you sell something on craigslist, be prepared. there is no way to tell what the person on the other end of cyber world is like. or if they have a lick of sense.