But I was the one responsible for the penultimate straw. I opened my car door just as a lovely older man pulled into the space next to us. Our rental car was fine, more or less. His month-old hybrid wasn’t.
The insurance swap was perfectly civil. We chatted about where we live in New York; he told me about his kids. The pall had been cast, however.
The grown-ups were grouchy. Then the kids responded by kicking the bickering up to 11. Everyone survived the ferry ride back — but it was a near thing.
The kicker, however, was that the Boy’s watch stopped working halfway across the Sound.
I don’t hold Seattle responsible, however. It was totally our fault for trying leaving the house when all signs pointed to “stay in and drink coffee all day.”
Tomorrow, however, we’ll give it another try.
Adrienne Martini is a freelance writer, instructor at the State University College at Oneonta, mom to Maddy and Cory, wife to Scott, and author of “Sweater Quest.” Her columns can be found at www.thedailystar.com/parentingimperfect.