Because I can’t let a drama go by untold, I have to share with you the flat tire incident from Tuesday night.
My friend Sara and I took two of my daughters to the city to pick up their friend from the airport. We shopped and we ate and we went to Costco….you know. City stuff.
We stayed all day and into the night for a meeting hosted by Young Living. We dropped the girls at the mall (a first for us!) and Sara and I met another friend and went to the meeting where we stood in the back of a very crowded room. It was loud (people wouldn’t stop talking to each other) and hot. So we decided to slip out and visit for a while instead. Sitting and talking is always better than standing and sweating, at least in my book.
After a nice visit we left to pick up the girls, make a couple of quick stops and then head toward home. We were looking forward the extra hour’s drive to talk a little more. Really, it’s all about getting our words out for the day.
We were having great fellowship when it happened. We had a full fledged blow out going 75 MPH. I wasn’t speeding, that’s the speed limit on the highway here….about 30 miles down the road it changes to 80. Tell your kids. It can count as a geography lesson for the day. “Which state has 80 MPH speed limits?”
It was after 10 at night, so dark doesn’t describe it. More like pitch black. Well, except for the Mack trucks and SUVs racing past at 75 miles per hour creating flashes of scary light. And our cell phones which we were using to find things we dropped in the weeds.
Now I think the last time I had a flat tire I was in college. I drove a Cutlass Supreme and the spare was where all spares belong, in the trunk under a flap of carpet. It seems that all of the improvement over the past 30 years had led to a move from the trunk to who-knows-where. Turns out my spare is up UNDER the van and the way you release it is through a hole between the driver’s seat and front passenger seat.
You know, I have always wondered what that 2″ circle of plastic was for. Now I know it’s to fit a long socket thingy that looks nothing like the picture in the manual to unscrew a mystery spare tire holder that, unless you are lying flat on the ground under the van, you can’t get it out.
I might also mention that we had to unload our entire van full of groceries and various other items onto the side of the road to get to the tire changing tools. We looked like modern day Clampetts minus the gun and dog.
After half an hour of figuring out the spare tire situation a sheriff pulled up behind us. He was so nice and he actually ended up changing the tire for us. Of course, we had already done all of the hard work in locating the spare through the mysterious hole in the floor.
An hour or so later, we loaded the groceries, luggage, shopping bags and 5 tired ladies back into the van and agonizingly drove only 55MPH all the way home. The sheriff had explained to me that you can’t go faster than that on a spare. We finally made it home around 11, which in Lisa time means WAY past bed time.
The next morning I asked my oldest son if he would take the van to the tire place and get it all fixed back to the way it was before any of this ever happened., which he did. I do realize that sounds like I don’t do any work, but keep in mind I spent 20 years raising him. Not dealing with tire cleanup is is my reward for years of diapering and nose wiping and hurting my back pulling him in a wagon.
Have a great weekend!
Oh…..and be sure to check out this week’s YouTube video! In it I talk about not letting your emotions control you (a concept I used on Tuesday night for sure!)