Savage Words: ‘Oh, Canada,’ you made a stressful day humorous

I was going to start this column with: Ever had one of those days?

But that’s foolish.

We’ve all had one of those days. We’ve all had several. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to find the humor in them, and I did last week.

It started as a nice, casual, relaxing day. Breakfast at home with my daughter, sat on the porch for a bit, albeit a tad chilly still. But it was refreshing, and I was ready to tackle the day.

My daughter, Isabella, was leaving for an Augustana choir concert. She and a gaggle of other Augie singers were scheduled to get on a bus at noon, headed for Des Moines. The bus was scheduled to leave at 12:30.

At 11:30, she asked me to take her to campus. I happily obliged.

As we headed out the front door to the house, my heart sank as I quickly turned to her. She was closing the door, and it was like slow motion…”Nooooooooo.” I could hear myself saying it, just like you hear in a television sitcom when something bad is slowly unfolding.

As the door slammed shut, I looked at her, my eyes wide open.

“I don’t have my keys,” I said with concern in my voice. “Please tell me you grabbed yours.”

She didn’t.

“Dad!” she said with exasperation in her tone. “What are we going to do? I need to get to school. I have to be there in 30 minutes.”

I really didn’t know what to do. In fact, I stood on the porch, thinking – thinking of any and all solutions.

I didn’t have one.

I looked at breaking a window. That was dumb, and didn’t last long.

I called my mother-in-law. She had an extra key, but no answer.

“Dad!” I heard once again. “What are we going to do!?”

I called a few other friends, thinking perhaps that Nancy left an extra key with them.

No luck.

I couldn’t call Nancy. She ironically called me about five minutes before the door banged shut and requested that we not call her for two hours. She was in a fairly high-level meeting in Downtown Sioux Falls, and said she couldn’t be on her phone, or leave the meeting.

“I gotta do it,” I said to Isabella. “I gotta call your mom.”

“Oh man, don’t do it,” she said. “She’ll get mad. I know it.”

I was in a pickle. 

We actually live in central Sioux Falls. I told Isabella that we could walk to Augustana, and we’d make it in time.

But, another level of frustration was added to the situation. Isabella’s music book was in her car, and we obviously couldn’t get to it because the car was locked, and we, obviously, were locked out of the house.

“I gotta have it,” she said, again with exasperation in her voice. “Seriously, I can’t go if I don’t have it.”

But then, the first positive domino fell our way. Or, at least my way. Rather than walk to Augustana, I had the long-overdue idea of taking Lyft, which we did. We got her to campus at 11:50. That left me 40 minutes to figure out how to get her music book to her. 

Once on campus, I asked the Lyft driver to take me downtown, and I’d take my chances at getting Nancy’s key.

“Where to,” he asked me.

“Eighth and Phillips,” I said, completely guessing. I had no idea where Nancy’s meeting was.

On the trip downtown, I sat in the backseat and rolled the dice. I texted Nancy. Texted her again. Called her once. Called her twice. Called five times, actually.

No response.

Until finally, at about 10th and Phillips, she called back. Without going into detail, I asked her to leave her keys at the front desk of the building she was in, which ironically, was at Eighth and Phillips. She left the keys, and I had hope.

At 12:05 pm, I got the keys, and ordered another Lyft on my phone to take me back home. I got the ride scheduled, but I swear Stevie Wonder was driving the car. 

I literally stared at my phone as I watched the little car icon drive on the streets to get to me. It…took…for…ever.

As I was waiting for Stevie Wonder to pick me up, a homeless fella commented on my gloves. I purchased them back in December when we went to London for the holidays. They’re blue, with the UK flag – or Union Jack – logo.

“I love your gloves, man,” the kind gent said to me. “Canada! Woo Hoo!”

I chuckled at another attempt to find the humor in a day that was now officially off the rails.

Stevie Wonder finally got me back to my house at 12:20. I ran in, found my keys, and Isabella’s keys. I grabbed her music book out of her car, and then set a land-speed record on my quick drive to the Augie campus.

“Dad, are you here!” Isabella said to me when she called, again with exasperation in her voice. “The bus is about to leave!”

I was at the admin building on the corner of 28th and Summit, just three blocks from my target. 

I finally got within sight of the bus, and I could see that it was in gear and the wheels were slowly moving. But I got in front of it – sort of – and Isabella popped out the side door.

I handed her the music book, and my peaceful morning was complete.

I left campus, singing the Canadian National Anthem. Seemed only appropriate.