Ma and Pa decided to leave the Back 40 last week and venture into Regina to visit Agribition.
They didn’t get away until after supper because there was work to be done and the herd of cats to feed before they left.
Just before dark they were happily on their way, Pa talking to himself on his side of the car, Ma on the other side wishing it wouldn’t get dark so early because she couldn’t read her customary two paragraphs before falling asleep.
Suddenly there was a stream of bad words from Pa’s side of the car. His wallet was safely at home on the kitchen cupboard. They would have to go back.
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Ma graciously didn’t say anything. In fact, she was silent for quite a while. She didn’t even say anything when Pa raced the big semis down the highway. With Pa in the driving lane, the semis were on her side and a little too close for comfort.
Once in Regina, they had to pry Ma’s hand off the “oh gee” handle.
Off to Agribition in the morning, Ma was the map reader. Why a map, you might say? Because Agribition is huge. That’s why there are information booths.
Unfortunately, they are all inside the buildings and Ma and Pa were outside trying to find their way through unfamiliar streets while Ma for once was stumped.
At last she had it. “Follow that truck,” she yelled at Pa. He did. It was the wrong gate.
The lady in the booth kindly and politely told Pa where to go. He and Ma found the gate and asked the nice parking attendant how to find Lot G, following his vague gesture to a spot miles away.
Because they were both absolutely confused by the end of the day, few unkind words were spoken. But at last they had done and seen what they came for and it was time to go home.
Pa headed off. Ma unkindly told him he was going the wrong way. They headed the other way. Ma opened two sets of doors. Neither led to the parking lot.
In an unmanlike fashion, Pa asked for directions. The guy giving the directions couldn’t read the map any better than Ma.
They got to a parking lot. Ma and Pa walked and walked and walked.
They were looking for a dark brown vehicle in an unlit parking lot on a pitch black night. They were cold. It was not fun. They got separated. Pa found the vehicle but couldn’t find Ma.
He called for her. She heard him, but couldn’t find him.
At last they met. Driving back to the hotel, Ma began crushing crackers.
“Why,” asked Pa?
“So tomorrow we’ll have a trail to follow,” said Ma.
Pa wasn’t at all amused.
