Lost and Found...

The two days a week that the Attack does not attend childcare, he comes with me to drop off Connah at school, and then goes to my mothers house for the day.  We park down a side street in the general vicinity of school because there are always 80 billion people all trying to shove their beloved offspring out the car door as close to the entrance as possible, and I'm just not up for running that gauntlet at 8.45 in the morning.

On those days, Connah tackles the three minute walk on his scooter, and The Attack rides his trike, so that in the afternoon, The Attack and I can walk to school from work - which is about 10 minutes away - and Connah can get his scooting fix on the way back.

So, last week, we park to drop Connah off as usual, and make the trek past the rottweiler crossed with a hell-beast that just barks nonstop at any person who dares to use the sidewalk in front of it's house.  We escort Connah to his class, and The Attack goes happily off to Grans house.

When he is returned to me that afternoon, I go to get his trike out of Grans car so we can head off to school to pick up Connah.

The trike is not there.

I check my car just in case, although I never put it in there because he insists that it accompany him to grans house, even through she doesn't have anywhere for him to ride it.

Of course it's not there, so I turn to my mother:

Me:  Did you pick up Ash's trike this morning?

Mother:  No, my boot was full of stuff and it wouldn't fit.  Remember? I did tell you this earlier.  You put it in your car.

Me:  No, I very much did not.  We totally just abandoned his trike on the side of the road didn't we?

Mother:  At least you remembered the child.

The Attack and I walk to school - which is painfully slow with no trike because he has stubby little three-year-old legs and a distractable nature that insists he inspect every bug / mud puddle / roadkill corpse that we pass by.

After we have collected Connah, we take a cursory stroll down Hell-Beast street to see if we can spot the trike discarded somewhere.  Perhaps thrown in a tree, or discarded atop the roof of a car?  But no such luck, it's been six hours and I resign myself to the fact that somebody has probably stashed it safely in their garage and is currently using it as a bong.

The next day, after we retrieve Connah from his class and are trudging wearily back to our car, we pass by Hell-Beasts house, who promptly starts barking his evil little head off.  I glance nervously at him to make sure he is in fact still contained behind his fence, and hasn't managed to melt a hole in it with his super-evil-power-glare, and stop in my tracks.

Because there, sitting on the grass directly behind Hell-Beast, is The Attacks trike.

Well, crap.

The Attack is very excited by this discovery, and starts hopping from one foot to the other yelling: "Go get him!  Go Get him!  We'll wait here."

I look at the Trike with Satan's spawn dancing around it going ballistic, and seriously consider just letting him have it.  We'll buy a new trike.  A better trike.... An unstealable trike!

And then I look at The Attack with his hopeful trusting little eyes and know that I have to get his stupid damn trike back.

I put the boys in the car, and park it outside the house.

Walking up to the fence again I decide that I actually enjoy all my limbs being attached to my body, so I have no intention of dangling any tasty body part within reach of Hell-Beast.  

I see a car parked half behind the house, so maybe someone is home.  I walk the length of the accessible part of the house looking for a door, or even a window to knock on, but all points of entry are located within reach of Hell-Beasts snapping jaws.  

I stand in front of the gate and just let him bark, growl and snarl at me in the hopes that somebody will come out of the house to see what their dog is mauling, but they must be fairly used to it because no one appears.  

This is going swimmingly!  

I decide to re-group and come up with another plan.  As I retreat, I do not make direct eye contact with Hell-Beast for fear that this will make him realize that I'm escaping, which will cause his desire to eat me to ascend to new heights and he'll sprout gargoyle wings through force of will.

I make it back to the car in one piece and inform the boys that after careful consideration, I've decided to wait and see if anybody comes home.

Amazingly enough, about 10 minutes later, a car pulls into the driveway.  I jump out of my car and walk up behind it, realizing at this point as I stare at it's very tinted windows, that I'm about to meet the owner of Hell-Beast, which in itself is an indication that this will probably be a serial killer, and nobody knows where I am except my children who are locked in the car across the street, and since I have not yet trained them in serial killer combat, they will not be much use in this situation.

The car door opens and out steps a mountain man - Not a man from the mountains, a man the size of a mountain.  I do not know how he fit in his little gangster car.

Mountain Man:  "YES?"
Me:  "Ummm, excuse me sir (yes sir - it doesn't hurt to be polite to serial killers) did you ummm happen to find that trike on the side of the road maybe yesterday?"   

Mountain Man:  "I DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT TRIKE CAME FROM."
Me:  "Oh, well, we kinda left it on the side of the road yesterday...."
Mountain Man:  "COULD BE THE CASE, HAVEN'T SEEN IT BEFORE."
Me:  "Could we maybe have it back?  Please?
Mountain Man:  "HMMMMMMMM, WELL, DON'T SEE WHY NOT."

And to my absolute horror, he flings open Hell-Beasts gate, but instead of immediately galloping over to devour me, he stays sitting very quietly and subdued by the front door.  Mountain man strides over to the trike, detaches several dog leads that have been tied to it, and hands it over with a "HERE YOU GO, LITTLE LADY."  I resist the urge to say that he would probably consider a Mac truck to be "little" and instead go with a much-less-likely-to-get-me-killed "Thanks so much! Have a great day."  And make a hasty exit with my prize.

I return to my car and The Attack gleefully points out that half the mudguard had been ripped off, and the metal pushing pole has been chewed to within an inch of it's life and is now useless.  Awesome.

So, what have we learned from this experience?

#1:  Don't abandon stuff on the side of the road.

#2:  If you do abandon stuff on the side of the road, an opportunist will use it as a dog toy.  Or possibly a bong.

#3:  Being polite can help you avoid a serial killing.

#4:  If you lose your child's treasured possession, (especially through carelessness or stupidity,) you are honour-bound to get it back. Even if it means you have to face Hell-Beasts, Mountain Men, and when you get the item back it is a twisted metal wreck covered in dog drool.

Oh well, I'm still counting it as a win :)

xox