It's the little things...

I did my best to be a Big Girl tonight and it kind of backfired on me. We caught the Brazil-Ghana match (3-0 Brazil) at a friend's house and left at around 8, allowing just enough travel time to get home for Miriam's bedtime. Jeremy had other business to do and asked if I would mind if he went with another friend to get some things he needed. I said sure, no problem, I can get home by myself. So he went off in a taxi while I went to a nearby store to make change (the smallest bill I had was a 10, and taxi drivers will never admit to having change for that much).

I came out of the store all ready to hail a cab and get home. Trouble was, I emerged from the store at the same time that the local volleyball club finished playing, which meant that I was about number 25 in line to catch a taxi on that particular road. I waited for a while, thinking that maybe a lot of taxis would drive by, but that was not the case, unless you count the full ones.

Meanwhile, Miriam was getting fussy and wondering what the holdup was with her bedtime. My bag was huge and awkward all of a sudden and I couldn't seem to hold Miriam in a way that was comfortable for her. Somehow, her legs kept getting entangled in my bag. Still no taxi.

I started walking down the road in the direction I needed to go. Miriam was squirming and wailing on and off and I felt like the guards standing every few meters down the sidewalk (to guard various embassies and who knows what buildings) were secretly laughing at my predicament as I tried to soothe baby, manage my massive bag, and look over my shoulder to hail a passing cab at any moment.

I reached the end of the road where the sidewalk ceased to be functional and stopped to wait, despondent. I prayed for a taxi to come, soon! I know it seems like a ridiculously small problem, God, but it means a lot to me right now!

Finally, an empty taxi pulled up. I got in gratefully, arranged my bulky bag on the seat next to me, and let Miriam get comfortable. She fell asleep almost immediately. As we drove toward home, the taxi driver started telling me about how he was supposed to pick someone else up at that time, and was actually on his way to do so, but he saw me with the baby and felt like he should stop. He said it seemed to him that we had been waiting a long time.

He got us home in a jiffy. On my way into our apartment building, holding a sleeping baby and my ridiculously lumpy bag, the guard outside even offered to open the door. So tonight, I am grateful for the small miracles that sometimes happen in our lives. And first thing tomorrow morning, I am cleaning out that bag!

On second thought

Abdoun bridge