Annika is in town and it is awesome. It is crazy when you actually know you are living one of the sweetest seasons of your life. This is the season where my sister and I both have little babies about the same age. Dreamy. We have spent a lot of time together since she got here. I slept over at my folks last night for a sister slumber party, we brought our babies in their baby bjorns to the church garage sale so we could have our hands free to plow through the goods for sale, and you may have even spotted us walking our strollers around the minnesota zoo parking lot(admission is $16 for a non-member! We opted just to enjoy the sights and sounds and animals on the other side of the gate.)
I had a realization the first day Annika and I were together. I laugh deeper and harder with her than with anyone else on the planet. It’s a laugh that’s got roots that are 30 years old, and used when stories are told with acute details of people and events that have layers and layers of funny attached to them.
Well. I had been thinking about this. And then today, we went and made ourselves a memory that will go down in the record books of most hysterical moments of our lives. We’ll be telling and retelling this one to our kids and grandkids. It was a moment that could have been scary, but it never was. It was only funny. And it begins like this: Remember that time we locked the keys in the car at Noodles…with both of our babies inside?
Actually, it begins like this: We had just met Dad at Noodles for lunch. Dad drove back to the church and Annika and I went to the car. Ivar needed to eat and Annika needed to make a time sensitive phone call. So I fed Ivar in the passenger seat and Annika held Svea on her lap and used my cell phone to make her call. In a bit Ivar was full and Annika was off the phone. So we stepped out of the car with our babies, crossed behind the back of the car and put them in their car seats in the back seat. We buckled them in, and closed the doors to cross behind the car again to hop in the front seats, ready to take off.
And the strangest thing happened. After we closed the back seats and were crossing to the front seats we heard the car lock. Annika froze. “What just happened? They keys are on the dash board.” And sure enough, there were the keys, right next to my cell phone.
If the weather had been hot, or had the weather been cold, if the sun had been shining in their eyes, or if any of their needs had not been met in the last 20 minutes this could have been a terrible situation. But it was a 60 degree, cloudy day. And as we looked with horror through the back window of the Bonneville at our two babies trapped inside, they looked back at us with goofy, gummy smiles as if to say, “you mom’s are so silly!”
I started laughing. Uncontrollably. Thankfully, the big sister had a more helpful and practical reaction. She caught two men on their way into Noodles and used their cell phone to call the church, who then connected us to dad. Dad had a set of keys for mom’s car and he was on his way.
We waited for dad to come standing at the back of car, watching our babies watch us. And then we used the time for meaningful, soul searching conversation. “Is that a grey hair? Do you get grey hairs?” “Of course I do! I am 30. Wait, you have to pluck it out. You can’t just tell me I have a grey hair and not get it.” “No, it’s sort of lost in all of your hair.” “No, get it out. We have time.” And then my big sister picked at my hair like a mother monkey. Our babies kept their big eyes on us and the harder we laughed the bigger they smiled.
Dad’s grey Bonneville flew into the parking lot, braked at mom’s car. He flew out with his keys and Annika blurted, “Dad! How did this happen?” I’ll never be able to quite explain the look on Dad’s face. He was mystified. His daughters had locked their babies in the car, and he was being questioned as to how it happened. I fell apart. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. And Annika too. Thankfully, Dad was there to actually unlock the car, rescue our keys and our kiddos and add some sanity to the situation. Annika and I were too far gone.
Dad left and we got in the car and laughed from that deep place that only comes out with my sister.
I took this picture just before we left for Noodles because I thought they were so cute together in the backseat of the car. Little did I know I'd have so much time to watch them in these seats.
