So carefully did I park the car in a new place at the mega mall and why a new place? Because running late it made sense. I found the perfect spot right near Macy’s, hurried in, and rushed up the escalator to the top floor where the Hudson Valley Romance Writer’s meet once a month. Ten minutes late, I joined the gang already deep in discussion. So far so good. Three hours later, the meeting ended. My plan was to hang out with my favorite munchkin. Keeping in mind I’d parked in a new place, I retraced my steps to discover. . .Somebody must have stolen my car OR after searching the small section where said car should have been. . .Somebody definitely made off with my car. Call the cops? Uh, no. I called my daughter. Better than a cop. She’s a teacher.
She answered her cell phone immediately. After all, I’m the mom who might be in mortal danger at any given moment. “Wait right there. No one would steal your car. You’ve made a mistake.” Duh. I’m an author. A together person writing Survive and Thrive books, not known for mistakes. Ten minutes later, she pulled up the ramp, hopped out to rescue her mom with a bottle of water and my grandest granddaughter, age four calling, “Granny, we’ve come to rescue you.”
A turn around the section we were in and then she drove down one level to another ramp where my car was really parked. “Just a mistake, Mom.” “No biggie, Gran.” What a dope.
Has this ever happened to you? Well if it has or does in the future, call my daughter. She’ll find it.