Taking care of business

So yesterday Jolly and I made it just in the nick of time to a Dr's visit for me, and I managed to manfully refrain from cursing out the incredibly pokey confused driver in front of me, setting a good example for my child. (I think it's okay if he learns "Please go! Please! Please! Just go!")

Then, we went to Costco, with an eye to getting new tires, since we'd been experiencing a loss of traction lately on the tires. It made sense that we needed new tires, since the existing tires were obtained when we drove our car to the Pacific Northwest to move out here back in 2003. (We got new tires then because we discovered the non-antilock nature of the brakes of our car going 85 mph on the Montana freeway when a deer jumped into our path.) Costco cheerfully informed me that isn't it lucky, they did indeed still have a set of the old tire size that our '96 Civic requires, and hey, there's a sale on. Done deal, Costco.

Only snag: "How patient is your little guy? 2 to 2.5 hours worth of patient?"

I hesitate for a moment. Child has napped just prior to leaving island. Patience reserves will be at their all time maximum. This will work as now well as it will ever work. "Yes. Let's do it."

So, Jolly and I shopped. Leisurely. He ate his way through the samples and fed me some of them. Samples that I did not get to try included the fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. (Careful readers will notice what I didn't: that this is St Nikolaus Day and therefore child might have already reached daily chocolate quota earlier in the day. But, at least, child is very safe from Dementors at this point!) I bought the staples on our shopping list. I bought cheeses for the family visit coming up soon. I confirmed with Jolly's Grossmama that these were the cheeses she would find most palatable and that there were no other special visit food wishes. We browsed the kids clothing and found some fabulous fleecy pyjamas with monsters that look like our cat, and another with a spaceship theme. We made another loop around the store to revisit the better samples and look at kitchen gadgets.

Then, there was nothing to do but to check out. We did. The food court happily represents the one place where Jolly could get out and walk around, which it was high time to do. We got the rest of dinner at the food court. We still had half an hour, and I wanted a gelato, and *I* had not had a huge quantity of chocolate earlier, so I had one, by which we mean "we had one". Jolly, riding high on a sugar rush the likes of which we last saw during our plane adventures, ran exuberantly around the food court. Soooo happy! On a mini sugar high myself (I don't often eat sugar-containing ice cream!) I cheerfully kept him from flinging himself into the path of carts briskly heading to the exit, about several thousand times. I kept him from driving the carts of other people around, about several hundred times. I kept him from pulling the jacket of neighboring kids to the ground, about several dozen times.

When Jolly is cross about not being allowed to do those things, I whip out an arsenal of fun songs and games (tag, bouncing, air-flipping). No actual toys, but we don't need them. Sugar high for everybody!

I establish without a doubt that I do not have a timid child who fears the unknown - Jolly experiences no compunction about running off into unexplored locations packed with people. Thus, "kill an hour at the costco foodcourt" sort of plays like a videogame, with a lot of anticipation and hazards built in. However, I also establish that I have a not-previously-charted reserve of humor and patience that prevents me from snapping or becoming one of "those parents" who you see losing it with their rambunctious kids in retail situations all so often. We have a good time playing and mostly manage to avoid getting into the way of other people.

Also, I do NOT lose my child, who picks this time to learn how to run without stumbling. Super double bonus points for the fact that I do not even have to use my cellphone as the child distraction of last resort! (This means that my cellphone does not get put into the trash by my child, FYI. Awesome!)

I look at the clock. 10 minutes to go until the "time out" I was given for the tires. Diaper change time! I head to the bathroom, only to be INTERCEPTED by a lady who informs me that there is no access to the women's bathroom, because of a medical emergency. "Even the changing table is closed?" "There are EMTs in there." "Are there other changing tables?" No. Apparently men do not go to Costco with their babies. Seriously? Yes, seriously. There is another women's bathroom in the tire shop, irony of ironies, but also no changing table there. Well, crap. Lady cordoning off bathroom approves my request to change my child in a discreet corner. I would not ordinarily do this, but seriously, I have to do this somewhere and I do not have access to my car. I do a midair diaper change, which I haven't really done by myself before that point. Well, crap in more ways than one. Stealth elimination! Not a problem. Midair diaper change negotiated quickly and with modesty of child and Costco shoppers maintained.

Time to tires: should be zero. Is sadly nonzero, as there have been some delays. Extra bonus round!

We pick out holiday card possibilities if we want to do a photo card, narrating through the booklet several times and talking about the families depicted in the stock photos and making up some stories about them.

I pull number at optician to get my glasses adjusted - why not? Waiting, I realize that now would be a GREAT time to get Jolly's passport photo taken. We take the world's most hilarious passport photo, wherein my sweet, angelic child looks like a hardened criminal posing for his first mug shot. While holding child and bouncing him to look less surly for the camera (passport photographer is apparently distrusted), my number gets called at the optician adjacent. Yay! Glasses get fixed so they don't slide down my nose anymore! Optician remembers child as being "so good natured!"

Tire shop calls voicemail, informs me that my car is ready. I pick up keys, I pick up passport photo, I wheel cart to car, load groceries and car, and call Ephiny.

The passenger ferry she usually commutes home on is experiencing mechanical failure! We go into super extra double bonus round and pick her up! With excellent traction! Before the next car ferry leaves!

The car ferry is festively decorated with giftwrap like you would not believe. It's like the happily ever after credits at the end of a videogame - surreal, a bit kitchy, but super fun and all DIY crafts. They have giftwrapped all the pictures in the cabin to make them look like presents. More giftwrap makes for abstract evergreen trees, festooned with hand-cut snowflakes. The many architectural support poles have been wrapped with more giftwrap to look like giant candycanes, and there is ribbon festively all over the place. I not-so-secretly love holiday decor when it's not prefabricated and plastic inflatable and blinky. It's an awesome end to the day.

Then there is a smooth, textbook bedtime transition when we get home, during which Jolly actually requested me! Yaaaayyy!! He goes to sleep clutching toothbrush, appropriately, and I feel really, really lucky to be his mom. I normally enjoy running errands, but having the good company made it a really fun outing and an absolute blast. I may even be a tiny bit sorry that we won't need to get tires for another many, many years.