Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Hi. Have you seen my SMV?

On Saturday night, hubby and Little AG picked me up from the Las Vegas Convention Center and took me to dinner before the slew of Blog World parties that were happening that night began. We headed to the Venetian to have dinner there, which was as great as it possibly could be with a 19 month old occasionally stabbing me with a fork. Also, I had somehow managed to cut my foot open the night before, so it was somewhat in pain from walking around in a set of fabulous heels all day.

We headed back to the elevators to the parking garage, and after a brief debate about if we were on level 4 or 5 (we knew it was a lower level), we decided we were definitely on level 5 so we walked out of the elevator to our fantastically sexy red mini-van. After a little walking around and attempting to set off the van-alarm, we decided that we were not, indeed, on level 5, so we trekked it back to the elevators (me still with my painful foot gash) and headed down to level 4.

When we got off the elevator at level 4, we both immediately agreed that it looked familiar. We walked halfway across the garage towards a red mini-van – only to discover that it wasn’t ours. We started in again with the method of trying to set off the alarm, to no avail.

Back to the elevators.

At this point, we’re kinda laughing, like what idiot truly doesn’t pay attention to ALL of the signs that practically scream what level you’re on when you park your car. When we got out of the van, we were so distracted discussing my day and strapping Little AG into her stroller that we just managed to not notice. We’re still confident that we were somewhere on the bottom levels, so we (painfully) drag ourselves back towards the elevators.

We try level 6. Nope.

We go back down to level 5, just in case we missed it the first time. Nuh-uh.

We go up to level 7. This time I let hubby wander through the garage alone while I wait, skeptically, by the elevator. No sexy mini-van in sight.

Hmm, how about level 8? Nope.

We dejectedly go up to level 9 just in case we were just crazy thinking that we parked on a relatively low level. No van. Level 9 was the last level. At this point, I’m wondering if someone stole our SMV. I mean, I’m a smart gal, and my hubby’s no dummy either, so how in the world did we lose this sucker?! We couldn’t have. The only logical explanation is theft.

We head back down to level 4. I have full intentions to report the theft of a red mini-van, nevermind all of the Ferraris and Corvettes that were available. Clearly this thief is all about family. Hubby, talking the calmer approach, walks all the way over to the other side of the garage and hangs his head out of the side, while trying to set off the alarm.

HE HEARS IT. It’s above us. Halle-freakin’-leujah.

We head back up to level 5. Hubby goes to “get the van” but comes back without it. Are you kidding me? It’s still above us.

We head to level 6. We get off the elevator, and hubby walks to get the van. I have been waiting by the elevator with Little AG at all of the stops, but realizing that he finally sees our SMV, I decide to book it over to where he is, practically running in relief. I’m almost to the van when he flies backwards out of the parking space, throws it into gear and zips down the lane.

Fantastic. I dart through cars, literally running with the stroller, waving my arms like a mad woman – not caring who is watching me. He passes me right up again. I shove the stroller through another set of cars, flinging my arms up in the air like I’m on a rollercoaster. No luck.

Finally, I see brake lights. He sees me! The SMV rolls slowly backwards in reverse, and then, right next to the elevators where this whole disaster began, I crawl into the van. It’s time to party.

9 comments:

Andrew Lightheart said...

Your SMV, my keys, my wallet, my internet access doohickey, the toilets, the store I've just come from, the Flickr user I just got that photo from, the blog that referred me to that website...

You're not alone.

Let's comfort ourselves by thinking it's a function of a productive mind, shall we?

Andrew

OhMyHeart said...

And then you STILL managed to look fabulous and network wonderfully that night!
Tons of fun :)
-Emma

Sarah said...

I like to blame things like that on the "artist" in me. I'm so focused on the creative process, that sometimes these details elude me. Yup. Artist. That's it.

Blessings From Above said...

Been there, done that. It stinks! I feel your pain.

Sharon - Mom Generations said...

I am laughing with exhaustion! I think it would have been enough for my with the heels, the fork and the gash... never mind the parking garage.

Your humor is contagious!

sarah said...

aaaahhhh hahahaha!!!!!!!! This sounds EXACTLY like what I would do!

Hope you had a blast in Vegas even if you couldnt find your SMV!

Audrey said...

Holy crap! How did you manage? I would have been EXHAUSTED! And I'm sure you looked gorgeous... am I right? xoxo

Seeryus Mama said...

I love how you call it Sexy Mini Van. Our van's name is Virginia. LOL...she's got a twin that my in laws just purchased named Vivienne.

carlady said...

OMG I laughed till I cried. I kept picturing you all over the place. Thanks for the laughs, I needed them...