Tonight I took my dog, and my mom’s two dogs, out for dog treats, and to run a few errands. I wanted to get the errands done fast as I only have a certain amount of time before all hell breaks loose with a car full of dogs.
I pull up to the grocery store, yank up the break, and launch myself out of the car (this is to ensure that none of the dogs escape). The seat belt yanks me back in. It yanks me so hard that now I have slid down the driver’s seat, and am at a weird angle, sort of wedged down there with the pedals. The door is wide open.
I quickly unlatch the seat belt, arms and legs flailing, as I try a second time to launch myself out of the car. I am yanked back again. I realize that my purse strap is tangled with the unlatched seat belt. Certain the dogs are about to leap over me and run to their death in the Friday night traffic I reach for the door handle with my foot.
I try to undo the purse strap/seat belt sailor’s knot and my hair gets caught. The car door is wide open. I’m yelling at the dogs to stay, yanking on my hair, reaching for the car door with my foot, and commando sliding out of the purse strap/seat belt. I kind of roll out into the parking lot and do a jump up – smooth everything down – I meant to do that – quick recovery. All three dogs have missed their chance at freedom as they are sort of immobilized in horror. I try to assure them that everything is fine but they look like the psychological trauma they have just experienced is right up there with their pre-rescue days.
On the way home I attempt to block it out. No use obsessing over how that looked to the people parked behind me. The next time anyone asks me why I don’t have kids…this answer is…. I am still working on my basic skills.