It started Tuesday. The unlucky part that is. Half way home from Pilates, I realize that the front tire, drivers side, is flat. This isn't good. I have less than 15 minutes to be home and logged onto my work site for an on-line chat with students.
I call Jay on the cell phone. Isn't that what you do when you are in trouble? Call your husband knowing that he will bail you out?
Well that's what I do. However, he was outside shoveling the 4-5 feet of snow that had fallen in the last few days. This time, no bail out.
I make a decision. Not a good one, I know, but a decision none the less.
It will get me home, I know it will.
The tire will die a slow horrible death on the way there but I'll be home in time for my work commitment.
Yeah, so I panicked. I am good at okay? When you are good at something you go with it.
I made it home and immediately burst into tears as I got out of the van since Jay was standing there with a look on his face saying, dude, you know the tire is flat like a pancake, right?
Thankfully he wasn't mad and knowing him, I should have realized he wouldn't be. He just doesn't sweat the small stuff like that.
I was on a roll though. The next morning I trashed the stroller. Well actually I could put the blame on my lovely neighbors who never shovel their sidewalks. I guess if you never actually do anything but walk to and from your car, it might no occur to you that there are people who use the public sidewalks. But that's irrelevant. What is relevant is that Kamden, all 40 lbs of him, plus a jogging stroller plus 2 ft drifts of snow equals too much for the Wal-Mart stroller.
And if you are wondering why my four and half year old needs to ride in a stoller to walk exactly two blocks to drop Jack off at school, here's why. It's -857 degrees or some ridiculous temperature. I am cold. He walks exactly the pace of microscopic snail. That combination makes for much yelling that goes something like this:
KAMDEN! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, HURRY UP!
The neighbors, understandably, had started calling social services. At least they care about my children's well being. The sidewalk and my well being, not so much.
Jay managed to patch the stroller together. Dude is turning into McGyver.
So what else could possibly happen you might be asking. Well, that wasn't enough for me. Oh no. Today, after picking up Kamden and his buddy from preschool, I had to go and lock the keys in the car on our very own driveway.
Yes, I did.
Why? I guess I crave excitement.
What did I do next?
You guessed it, called Jay. He's going to need a cape and a theme song.
Of course, today, the van is in the shop, you know, getting new tires, on account of my brillance, so he's at work with no vehicle. He called in a favour and got a ride from a buddy to bail us out.
Us, who had taken refuge at Jack's school so that we wouldn't be ready for storage in liquid nitrogen. By the way, it costs $1,250 for a lifetime membership. Save yourself some money, die here in January. You'll be frozen for free. Of course I might run over you with my patched together stroller as I sprint home in the cold only to find I have locked myself out of my own house.
But for $1,250, isn't that a risk you are willing to take?
Wait, I have a better idea, someone freeze me and store me until winter has been abolished. Excuse me, while I go for a swim in some nitrogen.