Took the kids skating today. Got those little double-bladed things you put on mini-shoes for little skaters. Got out on the ice with monster, who takes on alter-ego: "Mercury Man, the amazing toddler! Able to melt out of any parental grasp, especially in moments of danger, inconvenience, and social awkwardness!" Decided after 5 minutes to put him in ice-stroller (little tikes car with handlebar for parental pushing). Got up to good speed, when monster opens car door and tries to get out. Have half-heart-attack, slide to knees like the closing of a dramatic figure skating number, and close door in desperation, while shrieking. Hubs skates by on new hockey skates and laughs. Find situation not hysterical at all.
Take on own alter ego: Macgyver Mom. Upon investigating door, handle is analyzed: a hole. Wondered why in the world there was no type of belt or lock on the door. Remembered: living in Switzerland, where people do not think of these things. Got slightly annoyed, decided to move on. Emptied contents of fanny pack into basket of car-contraption-stroller-thing (band-aids, arnica globules, tissue pack and hand sanitizer), lengthened belt of fanny pack and tied door shut by putting one end of belt through hole-handle and other end through non-existent rear window. Tied it shut. Problem solved. Until skating by near-tears Big Boy, whose feet hurt. Turn back into exhausted mom, run out of ideas.
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