The Nuisance Express
Instead of driving the three plus hours to pick up my daughter from a long weekend with her grandparents, I decided to take the train. I could relax and do work on the way up and, bonus, on the way down, Elise could finally experience the thrills of train travel. She was so excited.
Of course, I didn’t quite factor in all the things I’d have to lug at 6:45 a.m.: stroller, her suitcase, my ginormous purse with laptop, a bag of snacks, and a small dependent person. Oh, and a coffee. Because, HELLO, it’s 6:45 am.
We climbed on board and I immediately started to sweat. It wasn’t very crowded but we needed two seats together. Also, I could barely move with all my gear. The shoulder strap for the stroller was digging into my right shoulder, and I was pretty sure with each row I passed I was taking people out left and right.
I could feel the death stares.
But what could I do?
I was like a moving mountain.
Luckily, it was Elise, up ahead, who found seats together and we finally got settled in.
Breathe! Relief!
Apparently, the early train is full of people who want to sleep. It was pretty quiet and some were even stretched out and had brought pillows.
So much for that.
Echoing throughout the train car was a distinctive high-pitched loud voice.
“My butt hurts!”
“I’m um-comfort-a-ble!”
“Why is it taking so long?”
“I’m tired of sitting!”
“Can you fix my underwear?” (Complete with standing in seat and yanking down pants.)
Perhaps those sleeping passengers just thought they were dreaming a bad dream. Later, I started feeling a little indignant. Why should I feel embarrassed? I am proud to be a mother. I can’t control everything, but I can control what I let get to me. I sat up a little straighter, pried my fingers off my face, and relaxed my shoulders which had been grazing my earlobes.
Not two minutes later, Elise yells, “Mommy! I tooted! IT STINKS!”
There were no survivors.