Day 36: The Best Worst Day Ever

“This is the best day ever!!”

What can I say? My kid’s a sucker, it seems, for the quirky and odd. Storybook Island qualifies for both. It also qualifies for heaps of fun and h-o-t.

But any place that has a bridge named Bennie’s Bridge in honor of the guy who built it (and happens to be named Bennie Bridges) is ace in my book.

There are also lots of benches dedicated to loved ones, mostly grandmas and grandpas named as such, which is immeasurably charming.

There’s playground equipment and swings and trains and fairy tale characters out the wazoo.

And there are lots of characters that made me ponder whether or not this would be a copyright lawyer’s wonderland.

I let Earl do her thing for a bit before we had to get on the road. We were trekking north from one Dakota to the other and had to be in by 4 to make it for dinner.

I was not going to miss dinner. We had tickets to the Pitchfork Fondue in Medora where the view promised to be as spectacular as the food.

It didn’t disappoint. North Dakota has badlands, too.

I know what you’re asking. You didn’t click the link, did you? You wanna know what the heck is a Pitchfork Fondue?

It’s where a bunch of cowboys put a bunch of big ol’ ribeye steaks on pitchforks and cook ’em.

The result is a heaping helping of Holy Mother of YUM.

I downed that sucker in record time.

I’m sure it had nothing at all to do with the growing storm that was organizing into something mighty impressive as it neared us.

Did I mention this pitchfork fondue is in an open-on-3-sides pavilion way up on top of a hill? Because, oh yeah. It is. And that storm coming toward us had us feeling like a bunch of sitting ducks, all huddled in the back corner of the building.

Earl was freaking out. I was weighing the options in my head: we could stay put with 250 other people, most of whom were taller than I was, we could make a run for the gift shop, or we could go sit in the car.

We opted to stay put. I was afraid we’d get hit by lightning if we ran for the shop, and I wasn’t sure my car, which was completely unloaded for once, wouldn’t just blow away. I checked the radar, handed Earl my phone, and waited for all hell hail to break loose.

The wind blew gangbusters. It sprinkled a little.

I’d have been disappointed if I hadn’t been so relieved.

“I don’t like this day anymore,” Earl lamented as we walked out to the car. Dinner was the precursor to the Medora Musical, but with more storms popping up along the horizon, there was debate as to whether or not they’d be able to go on with the outdoor show. So we’d decided to take our desserts and wait for the decision in the car where I could charge my (yet again dying) phone.

As we spotted my car in the lot, I noticed a police car parked near my space, a man talking to the cop. “Somebody’s not having a great night,” I thought to myself as I sidestepped the cop car and walked around the front of my car to get in.

Earl climbed in, I hit the accessory switch so I could charge, and we started to dig in to our brownies. That’s when the guy tapped on my window.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but someone backed into you.”

Uh…really? I hadn’t noticed anything when we got in the car? Wait, was the cop there for my car? The one I was sitting in?

Yep.

Earl and I are both blind as bats.

While we were eating, a camper backed into my car. Fortunately, the guy who’d just tapped on my window works at the facility, saw it happen, got the camper’s license plate, and called the police. Police showed up, took the initial report, called in the plates, troopers caught the guy the next county over, escorted him back, while the sheriff, who had actual jurisdiction, took his report.

Earl was beside herself. She called both my mother and El Jefe in tears, sobbing because we’d been in a wreck. “Yes,” I said, “But it was the best kind of wreck, really. We weren’t in the car, we weren’t moving, nobody got hurt, and the damage isn’t that bad.”

I finished talking to the officer and the deputy just as it was announced they were cancelling the night’s performance. The Medora Musical folks assured us they have the best rain policy anywhere around (they do), and we had one of our tickets refunded and traded the second in for two tickets, which we rescheduled for the next night.

Earl wailed.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked on the way back to the car, my arm around her shoulders.

“This is the worst day ever!”

“Oh, but it’s not. Know why?”

“Whyyyyyy?”

“Because we’re safe. Everything is working out. The dent in the car is just a story. And look.”

Later that night, the guy who backed into me called to apologize. The next morning, before I was even fully awake, I heard from his insurance company and mine. All is handled, all is well.

Earl is still undecided on the day.