The route to the bus stop shouldn't be a perilous journey.

Yet for me, just navigating my way out and about can become quite an adventure.

It all started with the wind you see. I was hard at work at the factory, sweating...working my tail off for some coins, pressing lots of buttons, then running here and there with messages (On Yoville) when I was distracted by the banging of the screen door...which led me to leave my post at my faithful computer to check to see if one of my neighbors were in dire peril...but instead it was the awakening of a sudden storm...and a loose door bolt. A quick glance at the clock reminded me that my youngest would be arriving at the bus stop within about 10 minutes. I noticed that she'd left her neon glow umbrella behind and I was faced with a terrible dilemma. Should I save the wee child from a certain soaking, or should I go and collect chicken eggs on Farmville. (I kid, I kid ) I grabbed my jacket and keys determined to save any and all small neighborhood children from drowning in any of the ever growing puddles of melting snow and wild curbside water runoff. And here is where the peril began.

In a desperate attempt to reach my little girl before the wind might consider blowing her in the opposite direction down the road, I dashed for the door. Suddenly, a large furry beast, snorting like some evil fiend blocked my path. (It was Fat Ted, dog number one) To defeat the slobbering obstacle I threw a tennis ball over my shoulder while vaulting over him with my handy rainbow umbrella. Then, by performing a slick Matrix type maneuver, I carefully avoided dog number two (the acrobat) as she leapt ever so gracefully off the staircase in front of my head. As I cackled and pushed at the door I realized I was not yet able to escape the house...I was thwarted by a plastic topiary bush. The spiral giant had blown across the porch, wedging itself against the door...its wirey branches now blocking the way between me and my jeep. I shoved, pushed, used all the strength given me by the last bit of sugar rush I'd had in me. After a desperate struggle (and a nudge by my eldest daughter) I was free again! To my horror I saw that my son did the unthinkable...he parked my Jeep next to the great thorned holly bush. I struggled to get past the pointy mocking leaves of doom only to realize he'd left so tiny a gap between the car door and bush that Id have to lose 20 pounds quick just to get in..or race to the other side of the car. With split second timing I made my way around the Jeep, dodging 2 bags of mulch, a skateboard, sled and recycling bin. I lunged across the front seat, making my way into driving position, scraped and bleeding from the tangle of holly leaves (and annoyed by the fact that I could have sworn my other two children were mocking me from the window) I started the car and was practically hurled backwards by a rush of air coming through the air vents at supersonic speed (I think my son uses them as a blowdryer) My eardrums were shattering from the vibrating rap music blaring from the speakers as I anxiously fumbled with 6 dials to try and extinguish it. The rain was pelting down by now, my windshield wipers were stuck, the seat was so high my knees were jammed under the steering wheel, and I hadnt even backed out of my driveway yet. I reversed swiftly, spinning round in the culdesac with the grace of an idiot, tires screeching as I gave it a lil too much gas to get up the hill. The mail truck was in my way now, and then came the UPS, a pizza delivery, and someone's grandmother in a large white cadillac driving up the center of the road. I could see the congregation of mothers with brightly colored coats and umbrellas huddled next to the stop sign ahead. I stopped a ways back next to the old cemetery because it seemed that everyone else managed to get a closer parking spot then me. The rain eased and I opened the car door, ready to join the ranks of waiting moms until I realized a beady eyed squirrel was staring at me. It shifted quickly left to right..and was joined by another..and another. I was clearly being stalked. I mean I know it is winter and the squirrels might be rather hungry..but geez. I felt claustrophobic...I swear, even the birds started circling the car. I was in a horror movie, trapped with an empty can of Coke, a dead cellphone, and a stick of gum. It all came closing in..I was about to scream, open my umbrella as a weapon, look threatening...and then I was startled by a pounding on the window. It was my wee girl, smiling at me with her one front tooth and frizzy wild hair, waiting for me to unlock the door. I looked back and the squirrels were gone, the birds disappeared, and the sun began to shine.

I made the long journey home (about 300 feet) worn and beaten. I hope it doesn't rain again tomorrow.