Not that Wheel, Jesus
As our return flight prepared to taxi the runway in Richmond, Andrea said, “I forgot my jacket in the backseat of the rental car.”
“As long as the car keys weren’t in it!” I replied with the maniacal laugh of a person who really isn’t prepared to deal with another crisis.
Andrea frantically dug through her carry on and something told me that her keys were in that jacket.
“Ohhhhhkayyy. Let’s call John and see if he can pick us up at the airport tonight and drive us home.” I said, slipping into problem solving mode.
Andrea texted, emailed and called John while I (unsuccessfully) attempted to reach the Enterprise rental car at the Richmond airport. Our plane taxied and Andrea’s cell phone illicitly rang. She hunched over and answered it, attempting a short conversation with John which is no easy feat. He’s long winded. Very. Andrea hastily pushed the conversation to close and hung up without being spotted by the flight attendant who had been giving her best “don’t mess with me” looks and remarks to passengers. I’m happy to say the plane didn’t smash nose first into the runway even though my rule following wife was a rebel.
This morning, Andrea drove me to work and from there Uber’d back to the airport to get the car.
She then picked up our dogs who had been boarding. I saw my cell phone ring, said “oh no.” as I saw it was Andrea calling, and lunged for it.
Andrea sounded respondent and reported that Georgie had been banned from further boarding visits.
“What happened?!” I demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“They had to have told you something. Is he okay? Can he still go to daycare?” I asked, praying for a yes as we need the dogs to go to daycare while our home is on the market.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up and waved the call off as if the past several hours hadn’t been a shit show.
Andrea later reported Georgie had behaved like an asshole to other dogs. What the fuck, Georgie. We sent your ass to camp, bro. Act like it.
My mother-in-law had agreed to take our cats on tomorrow but I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage that and do other stuff. Like my job. She (MIL) texted me and I replied with a stream of crazy train texts. She called me.
“Would it help to bring the cats here and just leave them in the back room?” She offered.
I almost wept in relief but kept my cool. Help?! Jesus, yaasssss.
So now we are barreling down the highway with 3 cats in their own crates and the cats are shrieking. Dexy shakes the bars of her little crate as if she’s a persecuted, political prisoner demanding her rights. I have impeccable selective hearing so I’m faring better than Andrea.