While searching online for activities my 2-year-old and I could do together this summer, I stumbled upon an outdoor sports and water program that sounded like fun, so I signed us up for the summer session.
The only issue was that our first class fell on the second day of an intense heat wave (think 104F).
But I wasn't going to let a little sun and heat get us down, so I spent the morning packing UV clothing, towels, sunblock, extra bottles of water, snacks, and a million other things we might need into a backpack, buckled my sunblock-soaked daughter into her car seat, and took off for the park.
Now, I'd never been to this particular park before, but I figured it would be set-up the same as most parks (field on the left, playground in the middle, splash pad on the right), so I decided not to bother bringing the stroller with us.
The park is massive.
And it's located on a ravine, so to get anywhere within the park, you have to walk up and down a lot of nice, long, steep slopes that offer zero relief from the sun.
But that's okay.
I knew it would be worth it once we got onto that field with the other kids.
The only trouble is, I couldn't, for the life of me, find the class.
The little area next to the playground was empty.
None of the other parents at the splash pad had even heard of the class.
And when I walked up the steepest hill known to mankind to check out the baseball diamond, no one was there.
Hot, annoyed, and full of PMS rage, I walked my daughter back down to the playground, took out my cell phone, called the sports office, and ripped into the woman on the other end of the phone.
Naturally, she had no clue where the class was being held either and couldn't get ahold of the coach, so all of that whining and moaning did nothing but make me look like a jerk in front of the other moms at the park.
Suddenly, I looked over at the splash pad and remembered the class description said the last 30 minutes involved water play, so I decided we'd head over there. With the amount of walking my daughter and I had been doing in the intense heat, I figured a little splash pad action would be good for both of us.
And it was.
We had a great time.
But no one from that stupid class ever showed up!
Defeated, I pulled my daughter out of the water, changed her into dry clothes, threw our ridiculously heavy backpack over my shoulder, sat my daughter on my hip, and started the uphill trek back to our car.
Of course, I hadn't been able to find a shady place to park when we arrived, so our black leather seats were nice and toasty by that point, and by the time I'd buckled my daughter into her car seat and reversed out of the ridiculously small spot I was parked in (why did that damn SUV have to pull up so close behind me?!), I was completely drenched in sweat again.
About halfway home, I decided to give the office another call.
What the heck went wrong?
Where was everyone?
Why was I the only parent that was unable to find the class?
And then it hit me.
I'd gotten the times wrong.
We'd been 45 minutes early.
And this, my friends, is why I suck at organized fun.
Are you doing any activities with your children this summer?
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