I slid out of the car and was happy to see that I had left plenty of room on Cub's side of the car (passenger side) to get him out of his car seat. There's nothing worse than trying to wrangle a baby out of the passenger side when the car next to you is only inches away. I took Cub's hand and we headed inside.
After loading up on the essential toilet paper, prenatal vitamins, and dog food, we headed back to the car. I discovered that the large truck was gone and another vehicle had taken it's place. After strapping le bebe in his seat, I waddled around to my side of the car, only to notice that this vehicle had decided to hug the yellow line, thus leaving about a foot of space between my side of the car and his.
I looked down at my ever-growing belly.
I looked up at the itty-bitty space between the cars.
Folks, this wasn't going to be easy. Or pretty.
It took me a few moments to consider my options. I could waddle back to the passenger side of my car and crawl over the passenger seat into the driver's seat, or I could stay on my side and shimmy between the two cars, hoping that my belly could squeeze through. At first, crawling seemed like the wiser option, since my embarrassment would at least be contained inside of my vehicle. But after some more consideration, I decided the shimmy would have quicker results.
With less bruising.
So, The Shimmy it was.
(Just for kicks, I sucked in.)
And with shoulders back and knees slightly bent, I shimmied my way between the two cars. It took determination. It took focus. It was more like a slow side-step lunge, much like an obese crab, moving methodically until I reached my door. I shimmied back a little, opened the door, and squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed through. Out of breath, I hoisted myself into my seat and heaved a sigh of relief.
And from the back seat came a little voice with an astonished, "Wow."
That's right, Cubbie.
Mama is Wonder Woman, the Queen of the Shimmy.
(With a substantial gut, of course.)
Have a lovely day!