sometimes I just need Mr. D to put up with my bitchiness

Last week baby Doodle and I went into center city to visit my former colleagues at the National Constitution Center. It was great to see everyone there, and the new 9/11 exhibit for free. I had parked on Fourth Street near the corner with Walnut St. It was an unmetered spot but had a two-hour limit. Two hours into our visit and before we broused through the exhibit I left BD with a friend and went to move the car. I did not have ticket. I drove up a block and a half on Fourth Street and saw an open spot near the corner with Spruce Street. I parked, happy to have found a new spot so quickly and went back to the Center to feed baby Doodle.

We went through the exhibit. BD whined a lot so I didn't get to really concentrate on all of the photographs. Baby Doodle doesn't like dimly lit rooms or the dark, unless it's night time and he's going to sleep. The exhibit was good. We were there right after September 11th, and it was nice to have a place in Philadelphia to think about the day and honor the people who died. I think the NCC's exhibit is more of a memorial than a museum exhibit, but it serves a purpose and I'm glad they have it.

We left for the car just an hour and fifteen minutes after parking it the second time. There was no danger of getting a ticket since I would be returning to the car well under the alotted two-hour limit. I stopped at the Soho Cupcake Company on Walnut Street and bought an ice cream cone for me and the "soho cupcake" for Mr. Doodlebug. I loaded BD in the car, put the stroller in the trunk and got in. Then I realized there was a ticket on my windshield! I was stunned. The parking police had got wrong this time. The ticket had been written just five minutes before we arrived at the car, so I thought of going up the street to track down the mistaken parking cop. Instead, I got back in the car and drove to Mr. Doodlebug's new office.

This time I parked on Walnut Street near 19th St. at a broken meter. There were a number of signs and for some reason I only paid attention to the sign that said you had to feed the meter until 3:30 p.m. I assumed this meant it was free to park there after 3:30 p.m., of course I wasn't going to paying anyway because my meter was broken. We got back to the car around 4:45 p.m. to find another parking ticket for $46 and a bright orange sticker on the back windshield alerting the tow truck to tow my car. This time I had messed up. I don't know why I thought you would be able to park on such a busy street during rush hour, but I just didn't think of it.

The point of this story is to say that I was a royal bitch when I finally picked up Mr. D from work to drive him home with us. I was pissed off about the corner on which I was to meet him, that he couldn't have left work any earlier, at the traffic on Kelly Drive etc. . . When I get in one of these moods Mr. D definitely gets the brunt of it and often the blame, even if it has nothing to do with him. He's a good sport most of the time. The next night I made a special meal (vegetable lasagna, apple pie, and a good bottle of wine) for him and we ate in the dining room with candles (usually we eat at the kitchen table).

I wrote an appeal letter for the ticket I didn't deserve and a check for the one I did.