The large suitcase I wanted to borrow from my parents was in the crawlspace of their Kelowna home, so we drove an hour to “the city” to collect it.
One look into that claustrophobic 2 ½ foot high hole was all it took for me to decide that the medium-sized suitcase I had at home was perfectly adequate for a 21 day cruise.
Dean recognized my error in judgment and gently reminded me that I was planning to pack a cocktail dress - with shoes to match - for every evening of the cruise – and he was hoping to bring a few clothes, too. “Dear maiden,” he crooned, “It will be my pleasure to retrieve the suitcase for you, because you are so wonderful.”
Perhaps those were not his exact words.
Whatever he said, my good husband contorted his 175 pound frame into the cramped space, followed by my 75 year old step mother, who is tiny, but tougher than nails and apparently not bothered by wee spaces.
I remained above, to ensure the hatch door did not fall and trap them below. Dean laid flat on his back,muttering a few indiscernible words as he shuffled across the concrete slab, guided by my step mother who shone a flashlight in the general direction of the suitcase.
He was able to reach the ginormous dark green suitcase with an outstretched arm, drag it across the floor and stuff it up the hatch. How my parents managed to get that thing down there in the first place, I'll never know.
The suitcase is huge, but necessary. Especially after all the shopping I've been doing.
When I was a kid, I got new underwear every September to coincide with the new school year. These days, I buy new underwear every time I go on vacation. Such an important purchase always necessitates a trip to “the city,” so as soon as Dean had released the suitcase from its prison under the floorboards, I went shopping in K-town. Cotton or poly, high cut or hipster; it's always a dilemma.
No comments:
Post a Comment