Today was warm enough to take Gloria for her first “walk” in the stroller. This was also the first time I’ve tried expanding the stroller and hooking the car seat up to it. Sitcoms do not lie when they show graphic, angry scenes of new parents swearing and kicking their travel systems.
To add more crazy to the scene of me yelling at an inanimate object, Crazy Lady from down the street decided to show up and be an audience.
This requires a bit of backstory. Our neighbors two houses down are two geriatrics who have dementia. The wife is just insane, but the husband is insane AND angry. One time Lady Dementia wandered into a neighbor’s house and sat down at their kitchen table, convinced that it was her own house and refusing to leave. The neighbor called the police and Lady Dementia was removed. However, Sir Dementia became convinced that the neighbor had sexually assaulted his wife while she was in that house, and tried to sue.
Lady Dementia likes to stand at the end of our driveway and chatter. She’ll ask you the same three questions over and over as you try to get to work. I’ve spent many a morning peering out of my living room window, planning the best route to my car. Usually, if I dart out to the trash can, ninja-roll and hide behind it for a couple of minutes, and then sprint to the driver’s side of my Jeep (while she’s distracted by, I don’t know, a talking bird), I can get to work on time and without incident.
So there I am, slapping the stroller around and trying to figure out HOW TO GET THE FREAKING HANDLE TO BEND THE OTHER WAY, and Lady Dementia pauses at the end of the driveway. “Hi, how are you?”
“I’m – god damn it – I’m fine, how are you?”
“Good, good. What do you do for a living?”
We’ve had this conversation for three years now.
I have the handle pointing in the right direction, but I’ve pinched my hand in the lock for the front wheels. “That’s a nice car. Where do you work? Do you like my vest?”
Is the frame locked? What the hell is this extra strap?
“How are you? What do you do for a living?”
I’m a damn stroller engineer, because clearly travel systems require a six-year degree. Why is this piece facing this way and its twin on the other side is facing the other way??
“Do you like my vest? The other morning I had potatoes for breakfast.”
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, how do you unlock the wheel?? I get my sleeve caught on a bar. “Isn’t the weather lovely today? What do you do for a living?”
Finally I got the car seat locked into the stroller and Gloria and I said goodbye and were on our way. I feel sorry for Lady Dementia, really I do, but I also feel that the last thing I need is a sexual assault accusation on my record, so I try to keep conversation as minimal as possible.
Kevin came along with us for our walk. I tried to get a photo of him, but this is what it's like trying to get a decent picture of a Border Collie:
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