Today was Primary class day at preschool (3 year olds turning 4 over the course of the year). One of my students started the day by refusing to sit down in her chair and her mood (and mine) only deteriorated from there. We've been going to school for a month now, and the class still can't walk in a line down the hall (and there are only 7 of them!). It's like herding cats to get them from point A to point B. Several of them are having trouble sharing toys, which is a nice way of saying they ruthlessly grab toys from each other, leading to a tug-of-war over the toy, bawling and/or tattling, all of which were exhibited during Center Time. Juice was spilled. Playground rules were broken (don't pick up the mulch, don't pick up the mulch, DON'T PICK UP THE MULLLLCH!!!). The Sad Chair had a bottom in it more often than it didn't. And one of those damn hairy web worms fell out of the sweet gum tree on the playground and landed on my arm.
A day like that can only get better, right?
Soon after school dismissed at noon, I was outta there, heading to Springfield, an hour east of here, to spend the afternoon taking the College Boy to lunch and to do some clothes shopping, then going to one of the high schools in town to watch my daughter's volleyball game. I had just left town, was in no-man's land between our town and the next one 15 miles away, jamming to the BeeGees on the radio, when I heard (and felt) my car run over something. I sure didn't see anything coming, and I didn't see anything on the road behind me when I looked in the rear view mirror, and while I most assuredly ran over SOMETHING, there seemed to be no repercussions from it. Kept driving. Kept singing.
Stopped singing. Wrestled the car to the shoulder just past an exit sign. Just. Past. In between cars whizzing by at 70 mph, I opened the door and stepped out long enough to see that my front tire on the driver's side was very, very flat.
Did I panic? Nahhh. I very calmly called AAA and explained what happened, but when the agent asked me where I was, I realized I had no idea. I mean, I knew what HIGHWAY I was on, but I didn't know where along that highway I was. There were no buildings, no signs (save for the one that said "exit" right next to me). Just trees. So I made my best guess of what the name of the exit was where I sat (turns out I was a little off), and I was informed a tow truck would be to me within 45 minutes.
That is a long time to sit on the side of the road, but the bright side was that it was, literally, bright and sunny outside and not in the middle of the night. I sat there, 4-way flashers on, car running because I figured the last thing I needed at this point was a dead battery, my seatbelt on in case anyone slammed into the back of me in spite of the 4-way flashers being on, felt sorry for myself, and contemplated whether or not I should cry (I opted not to). I amused myself while I waited for the tow truck by sending my husband texts, even though I knew he was in a meeting, and playing Candy Crush. After about half an hour of being fairly certain I was going to be killed by a speeding car careening into me, the tow truck driver called me.
He had been driving around the area where I had told the AAA agent I thought I was and couldn't find me.
"What are you near?" he asked me.
"An exit sign," I answered. "But I don't know which exit."
"What do you see on either side of the road?"
"Trees. Just trees."
|On my left.|
|On my right.|
Five minutes later, I see my knight in shining armor pulling up behind me (not my husband, the tow truck driver). After a brief conversation about how I was only about 5 miles off of my guess of where I was (on a stretch of highway that was only about 7 miles long), he asked me if I had a spare.
"I hope so," I said. "I never needed it before now."
"Do you know where it is?" he asked.
"Never mind. I found it."
I will tell you that he removed the spare from its super secret hiding place, aired it up, jacked up the car, took off the flat, put on the spare, and put the flat tire in the back of the van in 7 minutes, and that included the times he had to run around to the front of the car (if he had enough time) or throw himself against the side of the car (when he didn't) to avoid being smashed to smithereens by a passing car.
During the changing of the tire, I finally got a text from my husband, who had just gotten out of his meeting and saw all of my text messages. Even though I told him I had everything under control, he headed towards where I was (which I still wasn't real clear on the exact location), arriving just as I pulled onto the highway. He followed me to Walmart, where they had exactly zero customers in the auto center. In only about 15 minutes, I had a shiny, new tire and my husband, who decided to forego the rest of his plans for the day (things like work) had me park my car in the Walmart lot (which I did, carefully parking it under a security light in the parking lot, as it would be late when we got back) and went to Springfield with me.
We had to give the College Boy a rain check on shopping and lunch and drove to the high school where the volleyball game was scheduled. Naturally, my bladder was at the brink of bursting by this point, so the first thing I did was go to the bathroom.
Where I got locked in a stall and was on the verge of crawling under the door to get out when the lock finally gave and I was freed.
And our volleyball team got beaten to a pulp.
And when we finally got back to my car in the Walmart parking lot at 9:30, I found that I had managed to park under the only security light in the entire parking lot that was broken.
|Is it a light if it isn't lit?|
Yep, just one of those days....