Ironing Out The Kinks.
The day before our two-week relocation trip. My one-year old woke up fussy with snot dripping out of his nose. He wanted me to hold him. Only me! Right there and then I should have known how the day was going to go.
The bulk of the packing was complete but the day was still dominated by a list of tasks. We were out of wipes. All the pacifiers had gone missing. I had high hopes of slipping out to Dry Bar. The last of the boxes needed to be shipped.
Luckily, my best friend, Auntie M, had taken the day off to play with the kids.
Jeff headed out with our boxes, dropped them off at the post office leaving me a message about people being incompetent. Back at home he shows us a video of all the postal workers, manager included, on their cell phones while labeling the packages. We check the receipt and notice that the packages are not all going to the right place! A quick google search let us know our packages were going to head to Afghanistan – seriously!
Google provided a phone number for the US Postal Service, which put us on an auto loop with a robot who kept telling me “customer service is not available!” No one was answering the phone at the local office. I even sent a few “help” tweets to the USPS, with no avail.
Jeff, ever the fixer, hoped in the car and drove back to the post office. No one was apologetic, the manager was on break and the head office was “closed for lunch,” but they allowed him to go back into the room with the packages to find our packages, which they relabeled correctly for us.
Meanwhile, back at home I had discovered our trusty iPad was unresponsive to touch. A reboot only lead to the red battery screen, over and over.
Apple customer service called me almost as soon as I filled out the “call me” portion of the webpage and guided me through some steps. Finally, they gave me the last available appointment at the Genius Bar. We were really going to cut this close.
So here I am blogging on my phone while I get my blow out, (I know what a tough life, but you can’t beat Dry Bar for perfect travel hair!) I’m blogging because all texts to my husband seem to just create more anxiety. In the picture you find me inquiring why the passports are in checked luggage! The day is looking up though as my new friend, Trenton, is basically part therapist, part magician.
Luckily, things seem to have ended well. The boxes, and new tracking numbers, are headed to Delft. The iPad was easily fixed by our Genius Bar Guy, who diagnosed a software issue and got us back up and running. Little O slept much of the afternoon with Grandpa watching over him. I’m pretty sure I felt a new tooth poking through.
Trenton got all the kinks out of my hair and I’m hoping they are mostly out of our trip as well!