can i NOT have the bill please

So today i had a mini disaster.  One of those that sound like a real "sob story" .... ridiculous but very very true.  It just begs to be a blog ......

So I drop Nic off at his club soccer practice and because I have about 80 mins to kill I decide to go and sit at the shopping centre opposite the field and have coffee while I get an hour of work in on my IPad. 

All went well.  I got a respectable amount of work done, I drank 2 great cappuccinos and it was a nice quiet "gather my thoughts" time. 

Then it went wrong. 

I called for the bill, lent over to take out my purse from my bag .... my purse, where the hell was my purse?  I told myself to relax as it had to be there but you can only re-pack a space so many times to realise that your large pink and orange purse is definitely not there.  I had taken it out to make a copy of my ID and left it on my desk!  As I was now still only moderately hyperventilating, I left my book and something else at the table and told them I was going to fetch something in my car (no I did not run off ...... could not anyway ..... no parking money).  I went to the car and searched through every nook and cranny, Nic's blazer pockets, school pants pockets, school bag, sports bag everywhere .... with growing desperation.  After this FBI search I had about R7.60 in 20c and 10c coins. 

Back to the restaurant .... now sort of midway to a panic attack.  Continue the money search in my handbag and am giggling hysterically as I find another R1.45 in there ..... yes!!!! no!!!! What now ..... I offer to pay for one half of the first cappuccino and then ask them to return R5 for the parking? 

My BFF is way too far away.  And busy with her ill father.  My parents are way too far away and it is peak hour traffic.  My friend who coaches at another club is nearer but will never be able to get away mid-training.  Another friend who does work in the area is not answering.  I phone someone else I know in the area.  She is in Jhb.  I call another friend ..... she is on voicemail.  I call the soccer mom whose son plays with Nic .... it rings and rings. 

The waiter is starting to look nervous as I recount the huge pile of 20c, 10c and 5c coins.  He can see there is a "situation" building here.  I smile confidently and scoop all the coins into my bag ... it sounds like a casino machine paying out. 

By now it is 530pm and the soccer is finished.  So am I. 

I realise that I may have to phone hubby (who works 90 mins away).... walk to soccer and get Nic, come back, have dinner and wait the 2 hours till he gets there.  This seems a bit complicated. 

I Whatsapp the coach in charge of the soccer, I am actually blushing I feel like such an idiot.  My message is not delivered.  I have now moved to full blown panic and the waiter himself is blowing into a paper bag now. 

Just then Nic's one soccer coach puts on his phone.  The message is delivered.  "I am on my way, sit there" he says.  3 mins later the soccer mom calls .... "I am coming" she says.  I tell her to wait as rescuer number 1 is closer. 

He is laughing when he walks in.  I am dying I am so embarrassed.  He pays the bill.  He pays the parking.  He assures me that I am NOT the most problematic mom in the club .... 

I fetch Nic.  The soccer moms are crying with laughter.  I am just crying. Initially not with laughter. 

Moral of the story?  Carry your purse and always have the coach's number. :)

Till next time
c'est la vie xxxx