Secure This

     If you thought my preparations for my nephew's wedding were stressful (see last week's post), let me tell you about my 92-year-old mother-in-law.
     Helen moved to Chicago last year to be near us after living twenty years in Florida.  She lives at an  independent living facility, which affords her the opportunity to do a lot of things on her own. But shopping for clothes for her grandson's wedding was definitely a daughter-in-law responsibility.
     I adore her, and was glad to help, but this was a big job for both of us.  Just trying on clothes when you are 92 and have trouble lifting your arms over your head is an exhausting challenge.  But eventually we found the perfect ivory suit with a jeweled neckline, size 11 shoes that were flat and comfortable, and new lipstick and blush.
     We freshened up her wardrobe for the other days we'd be in California and I made her a list of everything she wanted to take.  She borrowed a bigger suitcase from one of her friends and packed a little every day.
     We flew to California and had a marvelous reunion with family who had come in from all over the country.  We had rented a great house, but it got hectic as we all needed the bathroom to get ready.  My mother-in-law allowed plenty of time to put on her pantyhose, which nearly wore her out.
     As the time to leave approached, we each came to wait for the others in the family room.  I was first, then my sons, and my husband.  My mother-in-law finally came out of the bedroom and walked slowly down the hallway with her cane, making a grand entrance.
     She entered the family room looking absolutely radiant.  I was delighted.
     Then she turned to me and said, "How do we get this security tag off the jacket?"
     She lifted her arm to reveal a four inch square plastic security sensor firmly attached to her suit.
     All the blood ran out of my head and I had to sit down.
     The whole family sprung into action.   I got on the phone with Macy's to find out if this tag was an ink filled kind that would ruin the jacket if we removed it.  My husband ran to the garage to get the tool box.  My sons started googling "remove security tag" but were locked out of most sites.  Because I have no idea how the internet works, I was sure we were now identified as thieves and at any moment the police would come breaking down our door. Finally my son Jesse hacked his way into a YouTube video which showed us how to disarm the security tag.
     The video instructed us to grasp the tag with two pairs of pliers and twist them in opposite directions. My husband manned the tools while the boys yelled instructions.  This only succeeded in breaking the tag into smaller pieces.  Finally, after 20 sweaty minutes, my husband had whittled the plastic tag down to the metal lock.  He could not get it to release.
     I had been watching helplessly the whole time and could not believe that all our hard work had come to this.
     I said to my husband, "Give me the hammer."
     I can only imagine what I looked like with that hammer in my hands.  I was furious and desperate--a dangerous combination.  I smashed the hell out of that thing.
     The tag gave up the fight, unlocked and fell off.
     We jumped into the car (okay, the rest of us jumped--Helen does not jump) and raced to the wedding.  We ran into bad traffic, and my husband had to call his brother, the groom's father, and tell him why we were late.  "Mom had a wardrobe malfunction."
     When we arrived, my husband drove past the parking lot down a country road to get as close as possible so Helen would not have far to walk. Not knowing the layout, I was concerned we were driving right into the wedding.
     I was also worried that after all our preparations, my mother-in-law would miss the ceremony, but they didn't start without us.  It was a beautiful, joyful, perfect wedding, and as soon as the happy couple said their "I dos" I went to the bar and ordered myself a gigantic cocktail.