I could write a hook today. In fact, it'd probably be a very
good hook. Possibly even the best hook ever. However, I feel the title of this
blog post simply belays the need for a hook. After all, we're all familiar with
the DMV and how going there can be one of the worst experiences on earth so
let's dive right in.
As you likely already know, my old RAV4 was totaled in an accident
back in December. A week later, we found and purchased
a 2013 RAV4 and that pretty much catches you up on the current state of
affairs.
Here we are a month later and while everything regarding the
car is great, there has been one small issue; namely the lack of title in our
possession. Now, don't worry about me getting pegged for stealing the car or
anything as I do have proof of ownership hanging out in my glovebox. The
problem is that my temporary license tags have expired and I've begun to
accumulate fines for not having paid my sales tax or having the car properly
licensed.
Obviously, I've been blowing up the phone lines over the
past couple of weeks trying to figure out the status on my title. Today, I finally
got the answer I'd been looking for with the news that my title was at the
dealership in St. Joseph. So, even though it was supposed to be sent to me via
overnight mail last Wednesday (not going into that), I decided to take matters
into my own hands, load up Ellie, and head north.
While I used to make driving with Ellie a staple of everyday
life, that has kind of faded into oblivion as she's gotten older. Therefore, it
was definitely a slight shock to my system to see that instead of falling
asleep in the car, Ellie instead chose to "sing" aloud to the radio
all the way to St. Joseph and back. Just goes to further show how fast she's
growing up that she doesn't feel the urge to sleep in the car anymore.
Upon arriving at the dealer in St. Joseph, I extracted Ellie
from her car seat (after putting her shoes and socks back on, of course) and
headed inside to the front desk. Upon our arrival, I chose to set Ellie down on
the ground as I talked with the attendant. Normally when I do this, she tends
to just patiently look around until it's time to leave. That would not be the
case today as she instead chose to position herself between me and the desk.
With her back facing the desk, she proceeded to push all of
the weight into my legs until I finally had to step back. At that point, I
looked down at Ellie to see her raising her arms aloft signifying her desire to
be picked up. Rather than risk a meltdown in a public setting, I picked Ellie
up and held her in my left arm while still having to sign documents releasing
the title to me with my right hand.
Once I finally had the title in my grasp, I loaded Ellie
back up in the car and drove the two blocks over to the St. Joseph License
Bureau to get my car licensed. Although I was able to procure a spot close to
the door (after it was vacated by a gentleman who it's possible should not be driving
an automobile), I first chose to peek in the window before removing Ellie from
her car seat. Wise decision as there were close to 30 people seated in the
waiting area awaiting help. With that knowledge in hand, I chose to hop back in
the RAV4 to instead head back to Kansas City and specifically the Parkville
License Bureau.
When we arrived at our destination, I sat in the car for a
moment to make certain I had all of the documentation necessary to license my
car before getting Ellie out in the rain and snow. Once I confirmed all was
good, then it was time to let Ellie out. Of course, I couldn't just remove her
and be good to go. I first had to shove her wildly dancing feet back inside her
socks and shoes. Once that was done, I sat Ellie down on her feet in the
parking lot where she began screeching happily (to the legitimate joy of the
guy applying expiration stickers to his plates a few spots over) and we walked
inside the office together.
Upon entering the office with my folder of documents in one
hand and holding Ellie's hand with the other, I quickly scanned the multitude
of lines until I found my rightful spot in vehicle titling. As Ellie and I took
our spot in line, she immediately asked me to be lifted up so that she could
see better. Then, she spent our ten minute wait pointing to everything of value
in the office and providing an explanation for the intrinsic value of said
item. Finally, it was our turn.
I approached the counter and sat Ellie down at my feet. It
didn't take 30 seconds before she began pushing me away from the counter just
as she had at the dealership. Finally, I gave in and picked her up again so
that she could engage with Shawnda (remember that name) in their own
conversation. Finally, after five minutes (and multiple shufflings of my
daughter from left arm-to-right arm), the job was done and Ellie and I headed
out the door to go home. Pretty easy if I do say so myself.
At least I thought the job was done. Fast forward an hour
and I receive a phone call from an unknown number. Normally I just ignore calls
like these and let them go to voicemail. For some weird reason though, I felt
compelled to answer. So answer I did (my responses are in bold).
Hello?
Mrs. Holt?
Um, this is Mr.
Holt.
My apologies. This is Shawnda at the Parkville License
Bureau. Do you happen to still have your title in your possession?
If so, it's in a
folder in my car. I'll check. Uh yes, I do.
We're going to need that back. Can you bring it to our
office tonight before close?
Yes, I can do
that.
As you can see, my time at the
DMV was not yet finished. However, instead of dragging Ellie along on the trip
again, I waited until Bethany would arrive at home so that I go by myself. I
mean, I can't be certain it wasn't Ellie's fault for the mistake to begin with.
After all, you can't sit there in your daddy's arms and regale office workers
with anecdotes about their stapler and expect the job to be completed to
perfection. That's just not how things
work, Ellie! #DaddyWrite
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