It's a reasonable idea... Super Dad and Toddler Boy are on their way back from visiting Great Grandpa and offer to meet me in the city for a little late afternoon ramble. Toddler Boy will stretch his legs, we might browse some windows... it'll be good.
 
How hard can it be?
 
"10 mins" says the first text message.
"hmmm... traffic" says the next one, 12 minutes later.
We discuss on the phone,  the indecipherable arrangement of one way streets for a few minutes while I trot briskly to the Meeting Place. There I languish for a while, trying to ignore the fifteen smokers who seem to have gathered in my immediate vicinity... what is this? Rent a smoking crowd?
"turning left on Adelaide St from the river" says the next text message. This does not sound like a parking option is in sight. I am not far from Adelaide St and I gather my bags and challenge the already stressed pencil skirt (damn those winter puddings) to some really good-sized strides. Nothing actually tears and within minutes I am running along beside our moving car, trying vainly to tug open the passenger door... locked!
I try another door and Super Dad wonders what is going on. That door won't open either and Super Dad belatedly unlocks all doors. Finally the first door is opened and, looking like a niceley groomed car jacker in a  tight skirt, I fall into the back seat and surprise Toddler Boy with my unexpected presence.
"Mummy! You in my car!"
Perhaps... out of my mind, though.