Breaking the rules


Avoiding malls and eateries around the Twin Cities is a good thing in the month of March – especially on the weekends when the Cities swell with out-of-towners in town watching various state tournaments and the Red Baron WCHA Final Five (this coming weekend).

Errands should have been run this past weekend. A trip to the mall is on my to-do list. But not now – not when the parking lots are busier than day-after-Thanksgiving sales or Christmas-shopping maniacs. No thank you.
A close friend in college, from WI, couldn’t believe the busyness of the mall during state hockey tourney time a few years back. Clearly WI does not have the same crowd-control problems at their shopping centers, due to their small-scale hockey tourneys. This isn’t a blog bashing other state’s lack of participation in hockey, so I’ll get back on track.

Tempted to swing into the mall Friday afternoon on my way home, I resisted my inner-mall voice and merged into traffic, taking me away from the hustle and bustle of the shops.
Why? Because I remembered a time, many years ago, when a short trip to the mall found me, a law-abiding nine-year-old (?), breaking the rules.

Cousin “B” was playing in a Bantam (? – I’m not sure of our exact ages) tourney and we had a few hours before his game. My mom drove down to the hotel, picked up my aunt and cousin and we headed over to the mall to run an errand and get my cousin a haircut (I think that’s what we were planning…no doubt he needed one).
Driving in circles around the mall, racing down rows looking for a spot to park, we were getting rather annoyed at the lack of available spaces. Sitting in the back seat, Cousin “B” and I were on the look-out, our mom’s scanned from the front seats.
Time ticked on.
Annoyance settled on the car.
An idea popped up.
Cousin “B” made a suggestion – a not-quite-legal-but-necessary-one.
Oh boy.
Should we?
The suggestion: “Hey, use grandma’s thing!”
“Grandma’s thing?” The rest of us questioned.
“Yeah, her handicap thing.”
“Hmmmm…”
We thought.
“Well…we could…just…ya know we are in a hurry…I guess…not that bad…”
We justified.
“All right.”
We did.
Oh if Grandma only knew that we used her handicap parking rights to park a car full of un-handicapped individuals just to go shopping. The things she would have said. She never knew we did such a horrendous act against humanity.

I’m an upstanding citizen. I abide by rules. I have worked with disabled people.
Why did I, we, break such a tiny, itty-bitty law? (Ok, I’m still justifying. Hey, our mother’s condoned it!)

Because…our mother’s said so?
Because…March in Minnesota made us?
Because…Hockey in Minnesota made us?
You be the judge.
But don’t judge too harshly, or you could find yourself breaking all the rules just to park.

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One thought on “Breaking the rules

  1. Pingback: One year. | Megan Nyberg's Meditations

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