We’re supposed to fly out of Florida at 4:00 AM to make it to Arizona for our son’s wedding, which means Mr. Lemon (our Class B ProMaster) has to survive long-term airport parking. Today was supposed to be easy: gas, propane, packing, lock the van down, done. And then—because Lemon Route—Hillary rolls the passenger window down for two seconds and it makes that awful “did you hear that?” sound… and the window won’t go back up. Now we’re standing in the cold wind asking the only question that matters: can we even leave the van at the airport like this? We scramble and do the classic vanlife triage: find gas + propane + an auto parts store all in one stretch (NAPA, buddy old friend). Bob tears the door apart with basically a “take it apart and see what I find” plan, realizes the window regulator is toast, and then we pivot to a temporary fix. We push the glass up, tape it inside and outside, and shove a towel in the window track so it can’t slam down if the tape fails. Not pretty, but it’s secure enough to park. We dump the tanks (because of course we forgot earlier), scout Jacksonville airport lots (closed), and end up at USA Park where they let us sleep in the van before our shuttle. Gas and propane were the only wins—everything else was lemony chaos… with snow flurries in Florida, because why not.