The last thing we had planned before leaving Quebec on Friday was a final ride down the toboggan run. Well Ken and C were going on the toboggan run, I was suppose to stand at the bottom and document the event with our new digital camera, and H was going to watch boats navigate the ice-filled St. Lawrence River. It would have gone off okay except that at the crucial moment H fell into a snow bank and started crying and a man came and stood right in front of me as Ken and C came swooshing down the toboggan run.
As if that wasn't enough, while we were walking to the parking garage, a chunk of snow slid off the roof of the Chateau Frontenac and hit me in the nose å la Marcia Brady. I knew I should have grabbed a handful of Kleenex on my way out of the hotel, a good mother always has Kleenex in her pocket; but I didn't so I had to borrow some from Ken and tilt my head way back so I would bleed all over the white winter coat, guaranteed to -20F, that I'd borrowed from Joan. Then I couldn't get into the bathroom in the hotel lobby because we'd already checked out of our room and therefore my credit card key didn't work in the restroom door. Seems to me if you've got a lobby full of expensive boutiques, which the public are allowed and encouraged to shop in, the public should also be allowed to use the facilities. Thankfully an exiting customer let me in so I could clean up. Then I had to stick a snowball on my nose so it wouldn't swell up, which made C declare that he wanted a snowball for his nose as well.
Oh, and did I mention it was also my 39th birthday?
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