I was on my way home from Halifax, accompanied by my daughter and little grandson. My daughter wanted some fresh sea air. Her husband would join his family on the weekend.
It was late in the afternoon, as we pulled off the highway. I needed to pick up some groceries at The Atlantic Superstore in Windsor. We were a little weary. Nevertheless, we did well for the shopping challenged, picking up the required items. The groceries were paid for and then we pushed the cart through to the Nova Scotia Liquor Board store to pick up some cider.
My daughter shoved the cart to the car and and unloaded the groceries into the back. The baby slept in his Bjorn strapped to her chest. I went into the garden centre to buy a few stakes for my tomatoes that were not thriving in the sea breezes.
Into the car we got and headed westward. Before long we were looking out over the beautiful bay.
Early supper. Early to bed.
The next evening, as we made supper together, we decided to have a Strongbow. The box of cider was nowhere to be found, not in the kitchen, not in the laundry room, not in the car.
It gradually dawned on my daughter, the box did not make it into the car from the cart in the grocery parking lot. Oh well, it had been I nice thought.
My daughter did not give up as easily. She picked up the phone and called the NSLC in Windsor.
"Oh, are you the lady who was carrying a baby? Someone found the box in the cart yesterday and brought it into the store. We'll put your name on the box. You can pick it up later."
Sure enough the box was waiting for her at the store with a note on it, when she stopped to pick it up as they returned to the city, at the end of the weekend.
Only in Nova Scotia, I say.
