This afternoon I experienced what I like to call a "Titanic Event".
This title in no way references the actual scale of the event, but more the calamity of it. I believe "Titanic Events" occur when an otherwise simple situation goes completely tits up for stupid and entirely preventable reasons, in much the same way it did for the actual Titanic. If only they'd hadn't ignored iceberg warnings, had binoculars, had enough life boats, actually filled the lifeboats they did have to capacity, et cetera, then maybe 1500 people wouldn't have died. You know, little things.
In my case, no one died, boats didn't sink the the bottom of the ocean, and I can safely promise that there won't be a theme song. It was, however, extremely stupid, and far more aggravating that it had any right to be.
First, it was fucking cold outside: -20 C assuming my thermometer wasn't lying to me. I had just taken my youngest down to the bus stop to pick up my daughter after school, and we were driving home, coming up the hill to our driveway.
Normally this would be no big thing, except a couple of days ago we got a new vehicle, and it is significantly bigger than the old one. As an added not-benefit, it doesn't have the studded tires I'm accustomed to. No big deal, right. (I can see an iceberg in the distance.....)
And I'm sure it wouldn't have been a big deal if I hadn't misjudged the overall girth of said new vehicle, caught the edge of the snow filled ditch at the side of the road, and been unable to get enough traction with my un-studded tires to pull myself and my now panicked kids out of the ditch.
Now, imagine if you will, me and two unhappy children stuck at a rather concerning angle in a new and unfamiliar vehicle, surrounded by air-that-hurts-your-face. Good times. Add to this (remember Titanic...) the fact that I was wearing pyjama pants because I hadn't ever intended to get out of the car, my 3 year old wasn't wearing shoes because we had hoped for an uneventful bus pick up, and that we live in a place where we can't see our neighbours and therefore had no easily accessible means of rescue. Super good times.
It was at roughly this point that the kids learned it was ok to use oh shit and for fucks sake in a sentence as long as your car was stuck in a ditch.
So we did the only reasonable thing we could and abandoned the car to its fate to begin hiking home (depending on your fortitude either a mere or ponderous 400 m); me carrying a very unhappy and shoeless 3 year old, and my daughter stoically trudging along beside me, rehearsing how her version of the story was going to go when dad got home. I spent much of the hike promising hot chocolate with marshmallows, while mentally calculating how much Baileys I could get away with in my own.
And then, as though things weren't already enough of a cluster fuck, I felt a draft. My jacket's zipper had split open providing me the winter jacket equivalent of a crop top. Because of course it had.
And with that, the Titanic finally went down.
To keep the analogy going however, the metaphorical life raft of this arctic adventure came in the form of a well timed neighbour who happened to be passing by in his giant truck. Luckily, he was able to take us back to our car, and tow us out.
He even promised not to tell anyone.
My kids made no such promise though, so I'm sure it will be common knowledge by morning that mom can't keep it on the road.
And with that, I'm off to find the Baileys.