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7.01.05
Yesterday morning Claire and I decided to go to Ikea. So we got ready, and headed down Del Mar towards the 10 freeway. We are in driving distance of two Ikeas . . . one in Burbank (lovely) and one in Covina (lovelier, with better parking.) So I chose that one. I was talking to Claire, distracted, trying to adjust the CD player to track 1 of the Mickey Mouse 40 Greatest Hits (or whatever it is called) CD because that's the only song she wants to listen to on it lately. Over and over and over:
Mickey Mouse club, Mickey Mouse club. . .
Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E
But I digress. I was distracted. So I saw the carpool lane, it was past 9 a.m. (so we could legally be in with just 2 people in the car), and I thought "hey, fast, cool," and hopped on. In full blown rush hour traffic, going TOWARDS L.A. instead of away from it. I was going the wrong way. I was going THE WRONG WAY. And stuck going the wrong way until the intersection with the 710, when the carpool lane would let me out.
I kept looking over wistfully at the briskly moving eastbound 10, at all the mommies who were organized and knew which direction they were going in life, literally and figuratively, and who would at any moment be sinking into a comfortable seat in the Ikea restaurant and enjoying some delicious Swedish coffee and maybe even meatballs and lingonberries, while I drove my baby into some dangerous south central neighborhood and we were never seen or heard from again.
At which point I had to throw myself on the mercy of any random kind drivers who would let me get over, because it was the kind of traffic where you have to be let in to change lanes (unless you're my husband, who can always change lanes whenever he wants because apparently he does not value his own life, and scares the goodness right out of me sometimes, but he does the into-L.A. commute regularly so I guess he knows what he's doing, but still, stop it, Bob, stop it).
So I got over in the right lane, and couldn't get off until the Soto exit. Like any city, L.A. has its bad parts, where you don't want to just get off and go wondering around with your baby. So I was worried about this, about getting off at an exit that had no entrance back on the other way. I was also worried because we went to San Diego the day before and had blown through an entire tank of gas, and I was sure my gas light was about to come on. The needle was way at the bottom. And Claire, oblivious, just kept yelling "one more time, mama, then that's it. One more time, mama, then that's it," so that I would "rewind" the CD back to track #1. Which, I remind you, goes like this:
Mickey Mouse club, Mickey Mouse club. . .
Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E
Over and over and over and over. So now we're on the 10 headed east. And in a few short moments, we pass the exit where we got on to begin with. We left the house at 9:15, and at 10:02 we drive past Del Mar, where we got on. I wave in the general direction of our house, and we continue driving confidently onward. I look at the poor folks in the westbound lanes and just shake my head.
The Ikea part of the Ikea trip -- where we were actually at Ikea -- was quite fun. We spent loads of time there. And I got my coffee, and some meatballs (early lunch at 11), and we were on our way out by 1. Claire behaved wonderfully. She loves Ikea. So much interesting furniture to sit on. I love Ikea. So much interesting stuff to look at. Going there on a weekday morning, before it gets crowded, is one of our favorite things to do. You'd think I'd know how to get there by now.
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