At the other end of the day, the same route of 2 buses and a streetcar took not half an hour but an hour.
The lock sticks. Well, it's almost had it, actually. You turn your key for ages and it half opens, and then finally, with twiggling and effort, the dead bolt slides back into its socket and you can get in to let out the dog who's been barking nonstop throughout.
My daughter let me in tonight. Her hair was still damp from a steamy shower, which was odd, because she never showers in the afternoon. And then she unfolded a story of attempts. I'm still shaken. She spent an hour in frigidly cold weather trying to get in. She was wearing sneakers. Her key, which doesn't fit in the front door, got stuck there when she tried to get in that way. She sat in a chair by the side of the house, her hood pulled low. She cried before telling herself to stop, no self-pity. She couldn't feel her feet. She felt tired and thought of sleeping. She finally decided to go to the Community Centre but found it noisily full of children. She came back, managed to get the key out of the front door and went to try the back door one more time.
The lock slid back. She was in. To a very rowsing welcome from the dog, who by now had berserkly barked for an hour.
You can imagine how insane I became when she told me the story. And how I related it to my landlord as soon as he stepped in the house. He went into shock too and has been apologizing all evening. He's getting the lock fixed tonight or tomorrow, has promised to be here when she gets home from school tomorrow since I'm working.
And then I went and bought her a small bag of Tim Horton's sugar donuts, her favourite... have her wrapped up in a comforter with a heating pad, and have put emergency money into her backpack that she is never to spend unless she has forgotten her key or can't get in, and then she's to go to the cafe at Loblaws and buy a hot chocolate and a pastry and do homework at one of the little tables... oh, and phone me. Yes, she must phone me.
That child of mine, who I love, oh who I love, is too dreamy. The two of us, I swear...
Observed at: Toronto Pearson Int'l Airport 12 December 2005 6:00 PM EST
Mainly Clear
- Temperature
- -12 °C (10 °F)
-
- Pressure/ Tendency
- 102.0 kPa↑
-
- Visibility
- 24 km
-
- Humidity
- 70 %
-
- Wind Chill
- -21 (-5 °F)
-
- Dewpoint
- -16 °C
-
- Wind
- NNW 21 km/h
I'm sorry your day was so difficult! There is nothing like a threat to a child to bring out the mama bear... and the fear. And I know exactly what you mean about having a child who is like yourself. It's both wonderful and daunting, since I know myself so well! All's well that ends well - your lock will be fixed, your child is fortified with provisions in her pack, and you are with the knowledge you've survived once again and furthermore there are improvements and protections in place. Scary, though.
ReplyDeleteThank you, moose, for your kind and warm words. Not surprisingly, she's sick today, a sore throat, a fever. Psychically an experience like that has its reverberations...and she needs to rest, to integrate. Hope where you are its warmer! *hugs xo
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