Liz + Jen =

$30 of hilarity.

Take me:
No car
No memory

Take Liz:
No phone-answering
No remembering-my-sister-is-a-lazy-fool

Add them together:

I called Liz on Thursday morning because I had left my carseat in her car the day before. This because she has to cart my hindparts around now. No answer, so I strap the boy into a little booster and take the girls to school. Irresponsible and risky, you may think, but I'm okay with the decision. Short drive, slow streets, whatever.

The next part is fuzzy - see above where I have no memory - but at some point in the morning, either on the phone or in person, Liz tells me she got my message and dropped the carseat off at my house on the driveway. Normal procedure.

So, I guess whenever I got around to it, I start looking for it. And, of course, I can't find it. I have anticipated this b/c it is basically how I run my entire life. Lost, confused, disoriented, forgetful. I look outside. I look inside. I call Liz.

She definitely left it on the driveway. But it isn't there.
Then she possibly left it in the house? I checked there, too.
Hmmm, she just left it. It didn't run away. Hmmm....

Unless, Jen, the trash took it away.
.
.
.
Say what?

It's trash day? Did you say the carseat was on the sidewalk at the end of my driveway?


AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! WHO DOES THAT? Who gets their carseat thrown out with the trash in a 15 minute period?

We laughed like hyenas. She actually drove over so we could both stare at the empty concrete and laugh some more. She's so sorry she put it there. No, my fault, I didn't even look for it when I got back from the school. It's not like anybody was going to come along and steal it off the sidewalk, right?

I wish Liz had posted this. She can write it up so that it reads as funny as it was. All I know is that Andy was chuckling and muttering, "Only you and your sister..." for a few days.

And if I have no memory, then my kids have ridiculously sharp ones. Gabe, age 3, tells me everytime he goes in the car, "Dinnot my cahseat is bwack is awgone, bye cawseat." That means, "This isn't my carseat. The black one is gone. Bye carseat." Way to forgive and forget, little creep. No, no black one. The cheapest dang carseat at Walmart, the $30 one, is good enough for your hiney. I laughed all the way to the store to buy it, whilst picking it out, giggled as I paid for it, and roared the whole way back to Liz's with the box in the back seat. Worth it.