Good Signs are Important - So is Reading Them.

Over a month since I've blogged. Wow.

Life is busy. Like, KUH-RAZY busy. So, thanks in advance for not giving me $hit about the whole not blogging thing.

This afternoon, I took advantage of the nice weather with the kids and went to one of our favorite places - the Kalamazoo Nature Center. You may recall, it's the spot of one of my favorite days with Princess. Ever. I blogged about it, and still take the occasional stroll down memory lane by reading it. Remembering that day puts a smile in my heart and a tear in my eye every time.

So, today, Princess, Little Man and I took one of our Tuesday adventures (Hubby gets adult time on Tuesdays from about 3 o'clock on ...).

We had a blast hiking, tree climbing, river walking, mosquito smacking, butterfly watching, flower smelling and picnicking. And laughing together. A LOT.

Kiddos were super stoked because they each now have their own Mini-MULE Camelbacks. They could not look ANY cuter. Seriously. And I no longer have to carry their water bottles.

It's a win-win!! (And, how often does a parent get to say THAT?)

It got to be about quittin' time (a little after 6ish), so I announced to the kids that we needed to head back to the car -- they still needed baths, etc. once we got home, and Little Man has preschool tomorrow.

We meander back to the car - none of us really wanting to end the fun.

Load up, change a wet diaper, remove river-soaked clothing and shoes, buckle up and head out.

Or so we thought.

Upon making our way from the parking lot up to the front gate, we are greeted by a CLOSED front gate.

Check that, a closed and LOCKED front gate.

What the... ?????

My brain is in mini-panic mode for a split second before I realize there is a tiny little yellow sign bolted to the gate.

Whew. It's likely directions for just such instances on an alternate exit, right?

Yeah, not so much.

I pull closer to read the yellow-sign-of-saving-grace only to discover there is no alternate exit. No secret code to open the gate (which I now see is padlocked).

Oh no - none of that.

HOWEVER, there is a nice little message to call a local towing company if you're idiotic enough to get locked in after hours - FOR A $55 FEE!!!!!

Pardon my french, but, ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

Seriously?

I must be honest, I thought to myself, if I just ram through your stupid gate, I'll buy you some two-by-fours and a new padlock and we'll call it a day...

By now, Princess is stressing a little, convinced we have to spend the night at the Nature Center.

I assure her we will be sleeping in our own beds tonight. Guaran-effing-teed. (I used different words with her, but you get my point)

I doubled-back, hoping to find a maintenance person, park ranger-type person, straggling employee ... anything.

Nope. Our trusty mini van was the only thing on wheels inside the park that wasn't supposed to be.

Crap.

Now, any sane person would have simply called the number and choked up the $55 bones, yes? But, you see, I was kinda pissed that such a sign and WARNING isn't posted at the ENTRANCE of the Nature Center. Or if it is, it needs to be more prominent. I also was under the impression I'd read on their website that summer hours were until dusk (which, again, is kinda vague, especially if fees are involved for possible misinterpretation). I was half right - it's open until dusk Wednesday through Sunday (I looked when I got home).

CRAP. CRAP.

So, there I sat, kids a little freaked about how and when we're going to get the heck outta there, while I stubbornly refused to simply call the towing company and pay the fee. It just seemed ridiculous.

I didn't sit much longer before deciding that for the sake of my children's sanity, the smart play here was to make the call and pay the fee.

So, I pick up the phone. I dial. Dude answers. I say something like, "Hi, I'm sitting on the wrong side of a locked gate at the Nature Center."

Silence.

ME: "HELLO?"

Dude that answered says, "Do you need your car towed?"

ME: "No. I need to get to the other side of the gate. A pretty yellow sign says I should call you. And then, I get to pay you $55 for having a key."

The sound of papers fumbling around for a few seconds is followed by, "Oh. Yeah. Here it is. We do that."

ME (only in my head): Oh. Yeah. No shit.

Dude then asks, "Can I have your name, and the year, make and model of your vehicle?"

ME (gave name): "... and I'm the only vehicle in the joint, and I'll be easy to find, I'M SITTING ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE LOCKED GATE." (It's not like there is a line of cars behind me, with only some of us willing to pay the escape fee...)

ME: I'm in a black mini van.

Dude: "OK. Hang on. I need to see if we have anyone that can unlock that for you."

As his words sort of drifted off, I am certain my blood began to actually boil. And I was just about ready to back up Old Bessie and go all "Thelma & Louise" on that gate, when, out of nowhere, I see a car (not a towing company car) pull in to the entrance gate on the other side.

Out walks a younger guy who kind of smiles and waves.

I roll down my window.

He says, "Hey, I came back to drop something off that I was supposed to leave here at work. I have keys. How about I let you guys out?"

I could have jumped out and kissed him.

As knight-in-shining-armor-guy was unlocking the gate, Dude on phone returns and says, "Yeah, I have someone, but it may be a while. You're going to have to wait."

Uh, yeah, not so much.

And, for the record, I STILL say the whole "you're gonna get charged a fifty-five dollar dumbass fee for being here after close" thing ought to be posted on the way IN.

(And, if it already is, it needs to be bigger.)