From one crazy weekend. Actually, a weekend worth of activity packed in to a day or so...with a Sunday tacked on the end.
Last week I spent more cumulative hours on the phone than I have since High School. I didn't add them up, I just don't use the phone that much. I'm not a fan. The only reason I know I didn't use more internet hours is that I recall having my first dial-up email account in tenth grade or so...so I simply didn't ever use it. Have I just dated myself? Oh well.
The kicker with the week-on-the-phone thing is that it was mainly with Used Car Salesman. Again: not a fan. People keep bugging us that we got a car so quickly and wow, how did we do it!? Well, the motivation of ICBC no longer paying for a rental after Wednesday was pretty much enough for us to kick it in to high gear. Time is money, people. Well, in the land of cars and write-offs it is anyway.
Friday mid-afternoon, (after busting a move all morning to get my act together - mercifully the boys were at a friend's) we all flee for the ferry. Make it there for our reservation. (Missing a BC Ferry isn't a smart move...and it's even more naive with kids. It's sheer torture to drive the 45+ mins to get there only to find you've missed your sailing and have another 2 hour wait ahead of you until the next boat and then a 1 1/2 hr crossing followed by a drive to wherever the heck you're going after that.) All that to say, we made a reservation to ensure none of the latter would occur. I wouldn't wish it on anyone...well...there is one Blonde...okay okay, I digress.
We get on the boat sail across the deep blue sea. Arrive in Vancouver at my parents' condo, after meeting up with my sister. We give her just enough time to wind the boys up before putting them to bed a solid 1 1/2 hrs past their bedtime (did I mention they'd been up since 6am and it was now 9pm...I'm already cringing at the thought of the following morning). They're in bed and someone is still singing to himself at 9:20pm but I am far to tired to wonder which one it is.
Silence is golden until 6am, (barring the Granville Street traffic below). And we're all up and at 'em. Fortunately for us all, my wonderful of wonderful husbands allows me a "it's-best-for-everyone" jog in the morning. So I head down to the gym. Wonderful option when it's pouring out and one has forgotten her rainproof running jacket. Oops.
Whip back up, grab a shower, welcome said sister and humour her as she winds the kids up yet again, (she only has 15 mins this time though and it is her right as an auntie) and we throw the kids in what we have now copyrighted, "the giant cotton ball". (That gives you a sense of my sentiments on the rental we had for the week.) Our kids now point out all "giant cotton balls" as we drive...so no offence if you own a white compact vehicle.
We whip 45 mins across the mainland, sincerely looking forward to a test drive in the rain in an area we know nothing about. Lovely.
And, as to be expected the dealership wreaks of Car Salesmen. Now, I have known a few in my time to be of sincerity and integrity. But for a moment please humour my stereotyping because in this instance it was bang on. With one exception. (Unfortunately, he wasn't the one we had been dealing with...fortunately for him, we are quite certain he is the owner...and randomly we know many of his extended family members.)
Test drive vehicle. Love (though I find that a strong word for an inanimate object) it. Sign papers. Mercifully a few of the hours spent on the phone that week had been spent negotiating pricing, and work done to the car prior to our purchasing. That saved us all a headache (don't forget, the children are running on several hours less sleep than normal...and unfortunately for us all, I stick to my no-sugar thing so there's no hypin' them up people).
Sign papers. Transfer insurance. Drive away...race (well, in an Island driver sort of way) for the next sailing. Make our ferry. Take Noah to washroom only to be greeted by the sound of some poor woman bowing down to the porcelain thrown in the stall next to us. Excellent.
Arrive back on Island. Drive home. Grab headrests that belong in the rental. (How on earth could I have left those at home is beyond me.) Whip over to Duncan to return rental. Give the kids yogurt in the car as there will be no supper tonight. Yogurt you ask? Wouldn't they spill that? Yep, turns out one of them did. All over the brand new cadillac car seat. Sigh. That's gonna turn blue soon. Whip back to Ladysmith to a Camp Pool Party followed by DQ. Get kids home and in bed.
Not to be repeated for awhile.
Oh...the car is great. The silver lining of an accident and write-off I guess.
What kind you ask?
And no, IT IS NOT A MINIVAN. (Don't even get me started.)