Wherein the Matron Provides Entertainment for Others

Yesterday at 7:00 pm, the Matron (still mulling over the home schooling issue) picked up Scarlett from a rehearsal at Mixed Blood to take her to an audition at the Children's Theatre . The child needed to be immediately returned to the first theater for the remainder of the evening rehearsal.

Driving! Homework! Merrick's violin lessons! Over 100 students who all turned in essays at once! Varsity debate team for HWCBN! Committee work, running the Parent Teacher Organization, yard work and that 55 lb ill-advised blood hound puppy. But here she was, driving the daughter.

Foreshadowing for disorientation.

Let's just say the Matronly head gave Regan in The Exorcist a run for its money.

But for a few minutes, yours truly was ever so organized. Before retrieving the thespian -- who had just half an hour in between commitments -- she stopped at a restaurant and ordered take out, which would be ready when she drove by after grabbing Scarlett. They arrived fifteen minutes early for the audition. The Matron remembered everything--head shots, resumes, conflict information -- oh, she had it nailed. She even brought her laptop!

Matron to Scarlett: "Break a leg, honey. I'm going to grab my laptop from the car and work while you're auditioning."

So they departed.

And the Matron could not find her van.

She knew EXACTLY where she parked. She walked by that spot 500 times, eventually reverting to clicking on the 'emergency horn' button on her keys, hoping to locate said vehicle. Every inch of that parking lot was scrutinized, every detail reviewed.

No van.

Stolen--with her laptop (and that dinner!) inside.

Calm was the first requirement. Thus composed, she dialed the number for security. A very nice older man showed up in the jeep with lights and symbols within 20 seconds. she assured him that the van was unmistakable: a green Mazda with big magnetic peace signs (blue and yellow) on the side.

They drove through all the parking lots and the neighborhoods. He consoled her. No van.

Security Guard: "This is highly unusual. We have break-ins but haven't had a theft in years. I'm really sorry! You seem pretty pulled together, considering the computer and car are both gone."

Matron: "In about two minutes, my 12 year old will come bursting through that door. I don't want to unduly alarm her. When she's gone, I'll probably cry."

They pulled up to the stage door and Scarlett emerged, with a friend and most importantly, the friend's mother (also a friend to the Matron) who knew about the stolen vehicle and was on board to shuttle Scarlett back to rehearsal and the Matron, home. Or to the psych ward.

Security Guard: "Well, it's time to call 911 and report a missing vehicle."

He got out his phone.

Matron: "Scarlett, everything is okay, but we have a small problem. Someone stole our car. It's gone."

Scarlett (screaming): "SOMEONE STOLE DAD'S NEW CAR?"

Oh, if only she had a visual. This is where the Matron collapsed into the side of the security jeep and said, "OH MY GOD. I DROVE DAD'S CAR." And not the van.

The car was right there where she left it, lap top and dinner secure.

The security guard said it was the most fun he's had at six months and nobody offered to drive her to the psych ward. Because she could drive herself.