“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
– Dorothy Gale, The Wizard of Oz
The ‘Wadge is a small town, nestled in the picturesque hills and valleys of the Northwestern Ontario forests. By small, I mean that is has everything one could need – except for a Tim Hortons; and maybe a Walmart would be nice – but the small town feel is part of it’s charm.
As newcomers to The ‘Wadge, there was a surreal feeling in our hearts as we regained our balance from travelling from Japan to Canada.
Tokushima, Japan is by no means “a big city”, but the small town Ontario feel of The ‘Wadge was a bit more of a shock than we had anticipated.
In the spirit of adventure, we embraced the opportunity to involve ourselves in the community almost immediately.
Look, Mummy! The Wizard of Oz!
Lo and behold, the local catholic school, where Thing One and Thing Two were going to be attending, was presenting their bi-annual school play, The Wizard of Oz, on Friday night.
Thing Two begged to go to the play. She played Dorothy in her final school recital at her daycare in Japan in March, and she really wanted to go.
Being newcomers to the school, and to the community as a whole, we decided to go. To be fair, there weren’t many other options for Friday night entertainment, and maybe it was a way to introduce ourselves to some of the members of our new community.
She looked up at her husband as he descended the stairs.
He was dressed in his finery – a nice white shirt and black dress pants.
“You’re all dressed up!” she exclaimed, doubtfully glancing down at her jeans and T-shirt.
“On what other occasion am I going to have an opportunity to get dressed up?”
“Fair enough,” she responded. “Let’s get going then. Shall we walk or drive?”
“The school’s not far, let’s walk.” Hubs responded cheerfully.
And so, they set off.
The evening was warm, and the weather was fine. Groups of families were making their way to the high school where the play was being presented. The snow that had fallen earlier in the week, was all but completely melted. The lawn of the high school was lush and green in the evening twilight, and a stream from snow melt ran across the grass.
Hubs suggested, “Let’s walk across the grass instead of going up to the driveway.”
Crossing over the school lawn, we paused uncertainly at the stream. It was a little wider, and running a little faster than we had been able to see from the road.
“Ummm… I’m not sure this is a good idea-” she began to say.
Picking up Thing Two in his arms, Hubs jumped over the water, landing safely on the other side. Thing One waited patiently for Hubs to come back and help him to cross.
A sudden twist of foreboding in her stomach had her exclaiming, “Wait! I don’t think you should jump—“
As though time had slowed down, I watched in horror as Hubs leapt into the air. As his foot touched down in the grass, a look of horror came over his face. His foot slid through the wet grass. In an attempt to stop his forward motion, he twisted and landed flat on his back in the stream of snow melt. His head rocketed back and bounced off of the ground. He lay there, stunned.
Ignoring the crowd of onlookers in the parking lot, I bit back my giggles and rushed to help him up off the ground. I instinctively knew that this was not a time to laugh… well, not yet.
Hubs was soaked to the skin. His white shirt was caked in black mud. Rivulets of muddy water were running down the back of his neck and the seat of his pants was also caked in mud.
“The show starts in 20 minutes!” she said in a panic. “Do you think maybe you could just take off the shirt and just wear the T-shirt underneath?”
“NO!” Hubs roared. ” I am soaking wet!”
He turned and trudged back over the grass towards our home. “I’ll go change and meet you back here.”
Thing Two looked devastated as she watched her Daddy trudge away, soaking wet and more than a little embarrassed. I told her to stay exactly where she was and to not move, as I grabbed Thing One’s hand and walked across the lawn to the driveway and back to her.
Unsuccessfully holding back my laughter, now that Hubs was out of ear shot, the three of us held each other and laughed. Our entrance into our new community was nothing short of an epic tale that will be retold around dinner tables for years to come.
Gasping for breath, she reigned in her giggles and warned the kids, “Whatever you do, DO NOT laugh about this until Daddy is able to laugh about it. Trust me. Get it all out now, because when he comes back, you are not allowed to laugh about this. And for God’s sake, DO NOT mention this to anyone inside the school!“
Entering the school, I paid for our admission, and explained to the teacher that my husband would be along shortly, as he had had to run home unexpectedly.
“Yeah! My Daddy fell in a mud puddle outside!” Thing Two announced loudly to anyone within earshot.
We never claim to do anything half-assed. So brace yourselves, dear unsuspecting townsfolk of The ‘Wadge, we have arrived!
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