I attended one of my husband’s football games the other day (he’s the coach, not a player!). After we had enjoyed all we could of the game (that is, at about half time), the baby and I headed back the car, destined for home. Once we arrived, I loaded the baby into her car seat and proceeded to collapse the umbrella stroller. Correction: I attempted to collapse the umbrella stroller. Now, this is not a difficult task. I have done it plenty of times before, but for some reason, on this night, the darn thing was jammed.
The problem was, our sweet adorable daughter has a funny habit of going into hysterics if we put her in the car seatafter 7PM… something about being too tired I’m sure, but the dread of this occurrence was hanging over my head as I tried to squish this article of baby gear into “portable mode”.
I tried lifting up on the hinge, I tried kicking up on the hinge. Twisting, turning, nothing. “Fine,” I thought, “I’ll just put it into the trunk this way.” That would have been a good solution if the full size stroller wasn’t already in the trunk along with two giant VBS signs I had been too busy (or lazy) to throw into the dumpster while at the church earlier (why I thought the trunk was a good alternative to the dumpster, I’m not sure).
Think. Think. Think. Time is ticking. No tears yet. Safe. “Okay! I’ll put it in the backseat unfolded”. I tried this method. Pushing, shoving, twisting. “Seriously?” It didn’t fit.
That’s it. No more miss nice lady. I flip the stroller on it’s front and basically jump on the hinge to get it to fold. Needless to say, this did not work. I leaned over for a closer look, fumbling with a spring. Magically, the stroller collapses before my very eyes. A little anti-climatic, but I’ll take it!
I throw that pesky thing into the trunk, check on the baby, and climb into the driver’s seat. As I’m pulling out of my spot, I glance up to see two ladies sitting in an SUV parked next to me, clearly enjoying the show. I wave, laugh, and thank the Lord I’m not the swearing type!
Moral of this story – You never know when you’re being watched. What if those women show up at our church the next week only to discover the Children’s Ministry Director is the crazy stroller lady? Thankfully, I’m pretty slow to anger by nature (praise God!), but I could’ve made an even bigger fool of myself that night. Something to consider.