On Saturday, as I was slowly easing myself back into the car in the parking lot of an A&W restaurant on the outskirts of Winnipeg, Manitoba, Kyle asked,

“Are you going to write about this for North Dakota Nice?”

“Don’t you think that would be a bridge too far?”  I said.  “It’s not at all pleasant, and it’s not at all nice.”

“The boys and I are having a nice time,” Kyle said.  “So, some of it is nice.”

I thought for a moment.

“Ugh, fine,” I said.

I can’t exactly remember how it came about, but somewhere in the last month or so Kyle discovered that there was a historic fort called Lower Fort Garry in St. Andrews, Manitoba.  As you know, the Kosiors love us a historic fort, and to discover a new one so close by was pretty exciting.

Also, as you know, it was recently our 14-year-old’s birthday.  He had asked for Lululemon clothes as his gift – and, wouldn’t you know it, Lululemon originates from Canada.  While we can buy Lulu in North Dakota, between the current dollar exchange rate and the desire to check out the Fort, Kyle was highly motivated to get us up to Canada for a day trip.

That day trip was Saturday.  Our plan had been to leave at 10:00 AM; so, naturally, we rolled out at 10:30.

“We have to be very efficient with our time,” Kyle told us.

The Fort closed at 4:30 PM, and the website recommended 90 minutes to see the whole thing.  Here was our plan of action: Go to Canada; stop at Tim Hortons, pop in at the hockey store, have a sit-down lunch, go to the Fort, go to the mall, have dinner, and be home in time to go to bed.

The GPS estimated our arrival at 1:00 PM.

“The absolute latest we can start the Fort is 3:00 PM,” I told everyone.  So no dilly-dallying.”

“Got it,” the boys said.

“Got it,” Kyle said.

“Got it, I said.

I’ve been with Kyle for nearly 20 years and we’ve been to Canada together roughly 100 times.  On 95 of those 100 visits, our first stop into the country was at Tim Hortons.  When we were younger, I would get a drink called an iced capp, which tastes like what a Wendy’s frosty would taste like if it were blended with a cup of ice.  As I got older and unable to mentally deal with a 400-calorie drink, my Tim Hortons order changed to from the iced capp to tea.  This time, however, maybe because I was trying to show off to our 14-year-old, I ordered a small iced capp.

Winnipeg is, of course, a city; and so the distance between the Tim Hortons and the hockey shop was only a few short miles but nearly 30 minutes of traffic.  Ten minutes into the drive, all of the emotions that Canada has been feeling towards America decided to manifest itself into my now-digesting iced capp.

“I’m going to be sick,” I told Kyle.

“You’re going to throw up?”  Kyle asked.

“No,” I said.

Kyle looked at me, and then back at the road.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

I thought about the itinerary and the tight schedule.

“No, I will make it to the hockey store,” I said, bravely.  “Then you guys can shop while I take care of business.”

“Okay,” he said, skeptically, having been married to me and my bowels for nearly nineteen years.  “Let me know if that changes otherwise.”

Two minutes later, I let him know otherwise.  He pulled into the first 7-11 he saw.

While the boys discussed the differences between the Tim Hortons in Saskatchewan and Manitoba, I returned that iced capp back to the Canadian waterways.  It took roughly 15 minutes.  It probably should have taken 20 minutes, but I – brave, selfless – was rushing to get us out of there so we could get back on the road and back on schedule.

“Feel better?”  Kyle asked, hopefully, when I got back into the car.

“Not really,” I said.  “But I think I can make it to the hockey store.”

I could not make it to the hockey store.  That realization came when we were downtown near one of our favorite Canadian hotels: the Fort Garry.  The Fort Garry – which I realize has a similar name to the Fort we planned on visiting but is actually related to the UPPER Fort Garry, which is a different place – is a luxury historic hotel that is the location-of-choice for all sorts of luxury-related activities, such as weddings.  In fact, as we pulled up to the front, there was a large wedding party taking photos on the front steps.

Everyone, from the guests to the doorman to the valet, was standing off the side to allow for the pictures.

Everyone, that is, except for the American who did not have the gastrointestinal luxury to wait for the photo shoot to conclude.

“Congratulations; I wish you many happy years together,” I said to the bride and groom as I hustled up the stairs, sweating and green.

The doorman did not open the door for me.  In fact, he looked like he wanted to hold it shut from the inside.

I was in the Fort Garry Hotel for another 15 minutes.  I probably could’ve gotten out of there a few minutes sooner, but the bridal party came in to freshen up and I had to pretend like I wasn’t in there defaming the country’s plumbing system.

“Let me know if you want to stop again,” Kyle said when I got back in the car.

“I would rather poop in this chair than delay the hockey store one more time,” I – brave, selfless, disgusting – said.  I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window and closed my eyes.

I barely made it to the hockey store, but I did make it.

Here’s something I had never thought about prior to this trip: apparently, the number one crime being committed in Winnipeg is the theft of bathroom time.  Outside of the Fort Garry Hotel, every single bathroom I had visited had been locked.   To access the bathroom at the hockey store, a patron needed a key attached to a broken hockey stick.

I got the key.

There was one unisex bathroom.  I held that bathroom hostage for 20 minutes.  When I brought the key back to the front desk, the employee looked surprised to see me.

“Did you think I fell in?”  I jokingly asked.

“What?” He asked me.

“Nothing,” I said.

Blessedly, I actually felt better.  I found the boys, who showed me all of the wonderful things they found while I was in the bathroom.

“We better get going if we’re going to get to the restaurant,” I told them.

“I think the restaurant ship has sailed,” Kyle said.  “If we want to make it to the Fort by 3:00, we need to grab something to eat on the way.”

That something was A&W drive-through.

“Would you like anything?” Kyle asked as we pulled up to the drive-through.

“An old priest and a young priest,” I said.  “Also, fries and a Coke.”

“Are you feeling good enough to eat?”  Kyle asked.

“Yes,” I said.  “I feel pretty good.”

 We ordered, pulled up to the drive-through window, and suddenly I didn’t feel so good.

“Would you like me to sign Fourteen’s graduation card when the time comes?”  Kyle called to me as I exited the car at the drive-through to go inside and check out the facilities.

 Like the hockey store, A&W’s bathrooms were locked.  As opposed to a key on a hockey stick, the A&W bathrooms were unlocked by a panic button behind the front desk.

“I’m going to unlock the first stall,” the employee told me.  She pressed beneath the counter, and a door behind me swung open.

“Do you think you could unlock one a little further back?” I asked.  “I may be in there for a little while.”

“What?”  She said.

“Nothing,” I said.

If you have watched me on TV, you know that I love to wear jumpsuits.  The problem with jumpsuits is that you have to take them off top-down to go to the bathroom.  This means that on that calendar day, I was almost fully naked in four bathrooms across Winnipeg.

I was sitting on the toilet, virtually fully nude, when the bathroom door unlocked and swung open.  I tried to push it close; the automatic hydraulics wouldn’t budge.

“I’m sorry,” I said to the person who was standing there staring at me.  “I’ll be just another minute.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she said.

“I can imagine,” I said.

You’ll be happy to hear we made it to the Fort at exactly 3:00 PM.  The glass of Coke I sipped from A&W to the Fort worked like a charm.  I only needed to go to the bathroom once at the Fort and it was for the normal amount of time and I didn’t need a key because it turned out that people who go to historic forts are given carte blanche to do whatever they want in the washrooms.

We ended our evening with some shopping and a great restaurant where none of the food turned on me.  As my bowels were so clean at this point that I could’ve had a colonoscopy, I ate like the building was on fire. Everything was delicious.

“What was your favorite part of Winnipeg?” I asked on the drive back home.

“I liked everything except for Mom going to the bathroom,” Ten said.

“I didn’t really mind that part,” Fourteen said.  “I got to show Dad some videos.”

“Nice,” I said.

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The photo above is of me 25 pounds lighter at the Fort. I made a TikTok about our time at the Fort; you can watch it here, if you want.

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This week on North Dakota Today we talked about Wendy and Olivia, my Nice People of the Week, as well a community coming together to get kids to school. (Valley News Live)

North Dakota is providing aerial support to those searching the Texas floods. (Valley News Live; Found from “Oops Only Good News”)

The Budweiser Clydesdales have made it back to North Dakota. (KFYR TV)

Are you a member of the military?  If so, you are welcome to a free roast beef dinner at the State Fair. (KFYR TV)

Seven North Dakotans are on their way to the National Civics Bee Championship in Washington, D.C. (KX Net)

Minot’s South Prairie School trap team took third at the National Trap Championships in Michigan. (KFYR TV)

For the first time since COVID, Central Valley is holding its all-school reunion. (Grand Forks Herald)

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