A Cranky Whine

I'm snuggled up with Kachi and I'm frozen.
Because I stood outside in a parking lot with no jacket all afternoon.
Because Kachi locked me out of the truck.
And my keys and phone were inside.
Ten minutes before I had to go get Sam and Vava from the bus stop.

I had to leave Kachi and Pascal in the truck, run into the store, beg to use the phone, and call my brother to help me.  (Because brothers are amazing).

Then I dashed back outside and stood in the cold for an hour, trying to keep Pascal happy with peekaboo and silly faces (Kachi had fallen asleep). 

While I was waiting, sweet people tried to help.
Two different men came by and offered to break into the truck for me. Two women who worked in the store came out to make sure I was okay.  An older man who had seen what happened brought me the number to call a tow truck.

Just before Rob showed up (having called the school and rescued the big kids), a police car pulled up.

Someone had called the police about a woman who locked her kids in the car.

And unlike the kind people, the police officer treated me like I'd done something wrong.
As if I'd deliberately locked my babies in the car.
I had to give my information, explain what happened, a few times, and then he said "well ... it doesn't seem like there's anything wrong here." But he sounded doubtful.

It was baffling. And unnecessary. And tiring.  And now I'm cold and cranky and feel yucky about the police and feel bad about that.

Guess I need to remember my last post - and let this shadow pass over me weightless.