About a month ago, I decided to take all my children to see Karate Kid. I have this thing about movie previews - I love them about as much as a the movie itself and therefore, I feel cheated if I walk in late to a movie. I was very pumped about seeing both the movie and the previews for whatever might be coming next.
So we all piled in the car at 6:50 pm and made our way through our road construction laden town and finally came to the theater at 7:10. There I discovered our movie had started 10 minutes before. Angst!
Now I had a battle in my mind, walk in 10 minutes late after the show was obviously in full swing, all the previews missed by a mile, or go to another theater. I whipped out my handy 3G phone and found another theater and another time. I convinced my kids to sit in a car a little longer and off we went to the Harbor in Rockwall - on a Thursday night - in the summer.
As I turned down the street to The Harbor I noticed lines and lines of cars EVERYWHERE. My first thought was: - "I wonder which incredibly wealthy family was having a major party" and then it occurred to me that it was Thursday night - at The Harbor - during the summer and that meant - Free Concert and a million people. It also meant no parking places, cars going every which way and a sea of people trying to fit themselves into a key hole sized lawn for a free concert. And All I wanted to do was take the kids to a movie.
Then I saw my oasis. Valet. I pulled up, handed my car over and all the kids piled out onto the pavement. I thought this was a very wise way to spend 10 dollars. No hassle. The only unfortunate consequence was Sarah not understanding why I had just handed my car keys to a total stranger. I wasn't sure I was going to get her out of the car for a minute. But when no one else seemed alarmed she relented her hold on the door frame and into the movie we went.
Two hours, three drinks, a package of candy and one giant popcorn container later - and we were back outside going to get my car. As we approached the valet hut, my heart sank.
Where did all these people come from. Literally over 200 people were smooshed into a 300 foot concrete radius with the Valet Hut as its center. I pushed myself and the three very grumpy, candy and soda spiked kiddoes to the front of the counter and looked at the frenzy of activity. Keys flew passed me and people ran back and forth grabbing tickets. Where was the line? Where was some help? And hHow was I going to manage this at 10:30 p.m., with three grumpy kids for what looked like at least an hour wait to just get my car back?!
That is when the inquisitive kid syndrome hit my older two boys. They had also been watching the busyness of the valet hut and were astonished by how it ran. They began to ask the valet guy questions. Incessant questions. Questions about the keys to all the cars. Questions about the valet guy. Questions about headlights, flashlights, and their uniforms. I tried to pull them away and get them to sit,but my heart wasn't in it.
After about two minutes the Valet guy told the boys to start looking for our keys ourselves. My boys went after the search with gusto! But the questions just didn't stop. Now the questions were: Do you see a Nissan key? Mom does it have a clicker on it like daddies? Is that it? Hey look at that one! We need a flashlight! and Sir, do you have a flashlight? The Valet guy looked at me and saw that I had one child hugging my waist while whining, plus two boys that were pretty sugared up. With an exhasperated sigh, he asked for my ticket. I happily handed him my valet ticket. He promptly found my keys and put them at the front of the line. I sheepishly smiled at him and thanked him while literally pulling my two boys from the Valet Hut.
15 muntes later, we were in our car and on the road home. Thank you inquisitive boys!
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