By Gretchen Leigh
As I mentioned in last week’s column, I told my kids to take Bus 150 to the anime convention in Seattle last weekend. They wanted to take the light rail, though I warned them that parking would be difficult, if not impossible, on a Friday.
Lo and behold, they couldn’t find parking. My youngest left me a voice mail shortly after they headed to the light rail, “You were right, there was no parking, so we drove into Seattle and parked downtown.”
Not only was I glowing with pleasure over one of my kids telling me I was right, but also pride that my youngest drove into Seattle. She said it was horrible, but she did it.
Oh, but this story gets better. Hold on to your hats, we’re going for a drive.
Around 7 that evening, they headed back to the car. At 8:20, I got a phone call. They lost the car and were hopelessly lost themselves. It was dark, they were frightened and tired. Some of them were crying, they were GPSing parking lots, but there are some situations GPS cannot get you out of; you have to actually know where something is first.
They were at the underground tour in Pioneer Square, which was closing for the night. If you know anything about Seattle, you have to stop and ponder how they could have possibly ended up there considering they started at the Convention Center; it’s quite the hike. They needed me to pick them up and help them find the car.
Mom and Dad to the rescue! As we drove into Seattle, I wondered why they were so scared. There were a lot of people about, but as I drove into the area, I realized it was the weekend bar crowd. Costumes were totally out of context in that scene.
We collected them and set out to find the car. The girls GPSed all the Diamond parking lots and we were diligently checking out each one. They kept describing the lot and we kept driving further and further out, circling back to the same lots we’d already been in.
My youngest was very upset. I told her, “Don’t cry, you did great. You drove yourselves to Seattle. You didn’t lose the car; all four of you lost the car.”
After an hour and 40 minutes, I decided we should start at the point they would have entered Seattle and retrace their steps. I began to drill them to spark their memories. “Do you remember any businesses nearby? Do you remember the street it was on? Do you remember any substantial, defining details that would at least help us zero in on the lot, besides the fact there was ivy on a wall?
They had nothing. They even disagreed over where they came into Seattle.
Hopelessness came over me as I approached yet another stop light. I thought if my mother were here, she would say, “Let’s pray to St. Anthony” (patron saint of finding things or lost people – it’s a Catholic thing).
However, it seemed like a huge stretch to test St. Anthony by asking him to help find a car in a big city. Then I thought if I were to ask for help, I would let my doubts go and just turn where my instinct told me to turn.
The light turned green. I turned left and there was the parking lot.
Yes. Literally. It gives me chills to think about it.
By the way, it was under the monorail. Really? None of you could think of any defining details about where you parked?
^
Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com, on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh.”or follow her on Twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.
