The Husband had borrowed the van from work (remember this; it's key) which we proceeded to load up with his dresser, night stands, bed, and other paraphernalia. Then we filled up Man-Child's car. Turns out, I was to drive up with Man-Child...while sitting in the passenger seat (YIKES!). To be honest, I had hoped that there would have been a need for a third car so that I could drive up myself. That didn't happen.
Apparently, the work van has magical capabilities (aka removable seats) and my car wasn't necessary. So there I was; stuck being a passenger both ways (with a maniacal driver one way and a very, very slow driver on the way back) *sigh*
I am not a good passenger, according to my guys. But this is just not true. My passenger abilities are directly correlated to the person driving...and usually, the drivers just aren't up to par. Yes, maybe I do have control issues...
Turns out, Man-Child isn't that bad of a driver. On the highway. The in town driving? Terrified the hell out of me.
The Husband got a head start...but we quickly passed him. We waved and went on our merry way, figuring he would eventually show up at the apartment...probably about 20 minutes after we arrived.
After several near misses at a couple of red lights; one time found me slamming my foot against the dashboard as I braced for the obvious imminent impact (much to Man-Child's annoyance); we found ourselves *this* close to rolling into the college town when my phone rang. It was the Husband.
When I answered, he asked where we were. I told him. And then he proceeded to tell me that he had just passed a certain landmark and that the transmission was shot on the van. Oh. My. Hell! The only blessing? He had made it UP the mountain before the damn thing failed.
He said that he was going to try to limp into town and was going directly to a shop. He didn't want us to come back for him. At least not yet. Once we hung up, I started to look for shops that might be open on a Saturday. Luckily, the Toyota dealership/Service Station was open AND it was located at the edge of town.
I called the Husband back and told him where to find the dealership. He told me he'd call me once he knew what was what. Man-Child and I headed to the apartment wondering just how in the hell we were going to transport his bed, etc., from the dealership to the apartment with nothing more than his teeny-tiny, two-door car.
The Roommate was there when we arrived. We explained what had happened and the first words out of his mouth were, "What can I do to help?" and I knew I liked this kid. Despite the fact that two days before we'd received notification that "someone" hadn't yet paid his half of the rent...(let's hope this was the oversight he claimed it was and not a *trend*). As I was hanging Man-Child's brand new shower curtain (note to self: those curtain rings are crap and I should never buy that type again) the Husband called.
The Toyota place couldn't fix the van. He was going to have it towed to the Dodge dealership and asked me to come pick him up.
What I neglected to mention was the fact that this was THE weekend for everyone coming back to school. Which means that traffic was BEYOND horrific. So I offered to go pick up the Husband and the Roommate, helpfully, offered up his truck to go the Dodge dealership to load up Man-Child's stuff. The fact that this Roommate had a truck was like a gift from God, at this point.
So I went one way and they went another. I'm sure they sat at that Dodge dealership for at least an hour. Why? Because I was stuck at one light for at least four cycles. It took forever to go what was, probably, four miles away. I wish I was exaggerating.
While I was waiting in traffic, I called the Husband and informed him that the boys had a truck and would take the stuff from the van back to the apartment. The relief I heard in the Husband's voice was palpable; that was one less thing to worry about.
So eventually, I picked the Husband up and we fought the traffic to get to the Dodge place, where the boys were waiting. The Dodge place promised that they would have the parts to fix the van by Tuesday, now how long it would take to actually fix it is up in the air, as they were slammed. The Husband's boss was unbelievably kind about the whole thing. He was more concerned that we were all okay.
The boys loaded one load into the truck and drove away. The Husband and I sat with the van since we couldn't lock it. Well actually, we could have locked it but that would have been pointless since just the day before BOTH windows had failed. In the down position.
When the boys returned, we refilled the truck and headed away.
For some reason, I had this crazy idea that the desk I'd bought Man-Child would be easy-peasy to put together. It wasn't. The Husband doesn't have much patience for those types of things, so I took the lead on that. And about two hours later it was assembled. And then, and only then, were we able to bring in his bed, dresser, etc. Why? Because putting together that damn desk took up the whole room and some of the living area as well.
Is that the end of the hell we were living through? No. At one point during the assembly, I stepped outside to stretch my legs only to watch a police officer walk up to the neighbor's apartment. Luckily, she had called him and he hadn't been called about her. Apparently, there was some sketchy guy hanging around the pool ogling her daughter. Lovely. So it's only now that I realize that the apartments my only child will be living in are not only not just for students but there's a sketchy guy in the neighborhood. A sketchy guy that the police, as I overheard, are already aware of...needless to say, I was ready to pack him back up and take him home. He can afford to skip a year of school, right?
But then there was the problem of getting home. How? The lone rental car agency was closed. Of course. Our only option was Man-Child's car. *sigh* Our weekend just got that much more crazier.
After feeding both boys (and "medicating" the Husband with alcohol; he obviously needed it) we
The Husband declared that we would be heading up early, early, EARLY in a bid to save some of the weekend. But he must have taken pity on me after realizing just how exhausted I was from yesterday, he let me sleep in. Until 7:30 am. Not to be rushed, I had a cup of coffee and perused the paper. Finally, we headed out about 8:30 am, me in my car and the Husband in Man-Child's. Whereupon, I immediately lost him. How I don't know. Eventually, we re-connected and headed over to the apartment. It was a good thing we re-connected because the Husband had no idea how to find it since he'd been sidelined as a passenger the day before.
After spending some time buying essentials that Man-Child needed (i.e., food) and taping up the windows to the van, we took him for a very, very late breakfast/lunch; because obviously, when we are there we are there to feed him. And somehow I found myself driving us home. This is surprising because the Husband is much more a control freak about driving than I am.
So now we are home. Exhausted, spent and ache-y. The house is quiet - kind of (the tv is on but not at its usual ear-splitting decibel) and the Husband is napping on the couch; and I can feel "it" - the Boy isn't at home, it's rather lonely. I will adjust after a day or so - or maybe a week - of him being gone. The knowledge that one day soon he won't be coming home to stay ever again teases the back of my brain; but I refuse to acknowledge that just yet.
And tomorrow? Thank God I had the foresight to take tomorrow off because that is when I will get everything done that I had planned to do today.
