The morning started with a flat tire, except we only noticed it once
everyone was in the car and all booster and car seats were buckled and ready to
go. I was backing out of the driveway, commenting on how early we were this
morning, listening to the sounds of pretzel-filled sandwich bags being opened
for car snacks*, when Josh sensed something wrong - and lo and behold, the whole
front passenger side tire had deflated.
After walking everyone to school, baby and I came home and called AAA. They
were so nice. I didn't have my card, I have no idea where it is, and I am pretty
sure I am still covered under my father's name, using my maiden name, but the
nice lady named Carol found me in the system, gave me my reference number, #152
- did 151 other people really have car trouble before 9am this morning?! - and
said that the guy would be here within the hour. And shocker of shockers, 22
minutes later he pulled up to my house.
Meet George. Well, George's truck, anyway. George, himself, was a bit camera-shy.
This is my car that he backed into the street at an alarming MPH considering he
was moving it maybe a hundred feet, not even.
This is my car up on the jack (is that how you say it? I have no idea.) And
there is the tire that caused all the problems.
Oh, and here is the humongous truck that came barrelling down my block,
only to stop short because it could not fit through the narrow space George left
on the street when he backed my van out of the driveway. I was too far away to
hear the exchange between the truck driver and George, but I can tell you, from
the hand gestures it was a heated conversation that contained
Anyway, long story short, George was awesome, he had the tire changed in
ten minutes, and left, parting with these words - "Lady, if you don't want me
back here tomorrow, get some air for your back tires and for the spare because
that one's almost flat too." Excellent. I'll just pass that message on to Josh.
George left and the baby and I came inside and into the kitchen because, well, because everytime we walk into the house we head to the kitchen. Snacktime is all the time in our house. We get to the kitchen and we hear dripping. I'm walking around the whole kitchen trying to figure it out when I see it. The kitchen toilet is overflowing - not from the actual toilet part but from the tank. Hmmm. And no one even flushed. And I know that because there was no one there. We were outside with George. So I call Josh to tell him the good news and just as he is telling me how to shut the water off, the overflowing stops. Whew. I just closed the bathroom door and backed away - and made the kids use the upstairs bathroom after school.
*Yes, I know we live very close to school and shouldn't even be
driving, let alone be having car snacks. We should be power walking the few
blocks, but, as I learned this morning, walking to school with three kids and
one more in a stroller does not make for a kvetch-free morning, and really, who
needs that? Not me. So we have snacks for our commute - and I use the term
Are you a Mom?
Of course you are,
your shirt is dirty :)