Open Letter: To the guy who broke into my car …

You know, all you had to do was ask and I’d have been happy to give you the GPS, iPod and change.

After all, the whole novice girl hockey team and parents were simply sitting in the hotel lobby commiserating over:

*the earlier loss which kept us out of the championship so we soothed their wounds by promising them a swim in the hotel pool;

*the draining of the pool since some kid had puked in it earlier;

*the reluctance of the hotel to provide us with a “party room” so the girls could have a “confined” area and we could order in our Swiss Chalet take out in peace.

You could have just popped in, said to both Cole (clarification: assistant coach – not son) and me that you wanted our GPS (and other things) without smashing the driver side window of his Yukon and my convertible.

What is the GPS worth anyway? $400 brand new? Maybe? What will it really get you? $50?

I’m not upset that Gabby is gone. She can be replaced. The iPod? No doubt Claire wanted a newer flashier one anyway. The $20 in Tim Horton coffee change is gone but who cares? The window can be replaced. It’s just so flipping inconvenient. But hey, what was I planning on doing all of Monday anyway?

My daughter, Chloé, on the other hand was terrified that you were still out there and were going to hurt us. So much so that crocodile tears were shed and she was shaking in fear. So much so that at midnight, my husband drove in with the truck so that we could come home. That way everyone would feel safe. He was practically frozen driving my convertible home with no driver window at highway speeds.

So, to the guy who broke into my car: thank you for confirming that in my life there is never a dull moment.