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You can follow this blog on Twitter if you want to be tweeted. I haven't figured out exactly why Twitter is so cool, but if all the cool kids are doing it I guess I will, too.
www.twitter.com/MyPoorHusband
Travis has a fun, interactive post tonight. Click here if you want to join the fun. I did!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Got a Flat Tire Today
Look, it wasn't my fault! I know you don't believe me, but it really wasn't! I was simply driving down the road, stopped at a stoplight, began thinking deeply about...hmmmm, I don't remember, then felt someone staring at me. I looked over to my right and there was a guy in a pickup mouthing the words, "You have a flat tire!"
My eyes widened and I mouthed back, "Thank you!"
I don't know what he thought I said, but he told me again and started pointing. I nodded my head and said, "Thank you!" again and smiled. He then drove off in a hurry.
Pulled off fast. So fast that I wonder if he thought, "Yup! I see the sharpie eyeliner. That's her, alright! I'm outta here!"
There was a gas station just down the road and even though there are bars on all the windows and doors and I see cops there all the time, I decided to pull into the lot and air up.
As soon as I opened my door I could hear a fast hissing sound. Oh, this can't be good.
I walked to the tire and-
Hey! Wait a minute! It's not flat!
Oh, oops. Wrong tire. I swear that guy pointed at the right tire.
It was my left tire and the air was slithering out like a rattlesnake with a grudge. I'd ran over a stupid bolt! I quickly went to grab the hose when I noticed that the hoses were cut. DUH! Bars on the windows! What else could I expect?!?
Or maybe they saw me coming, I don't know.
My place of work was less than a mile away and by the time I got there, the tire was pretty much flat. I have a great boss and he volunteered to put the spare on for me. He said I wasn't dressed to change a tire and right there I decided that I will never wear jeans to work again!
I shoveled everything out of my trunk and Ken (my boss) dug the spare out. I grabbed the owner's manual from the glove box, opened it, and
Hey! THAT'S where the spare keys are!
Travis and I have been having this debate for 4 years now about whether the dealer gave us the spare keys or not. I was pretty positive they hadn't and Travis swore they did. There have even been a few...discussions...about when was I going to get new spare keys since I couldn't seem to find the ones we were given (or not given!).
And there were the keys! Ok, Travis was right. Well, I take that back. I think he went to the dealer himself and planted them there. That's my story, anyway. ;-) I'm just glad some stranger at a repair shop didn't find them and think to themselves, "Who in the world would carry spare keys IN THEIR CAR???!!??" I'm so glad I don't have to answer that question because either way, the fact that I drove around for 4 years without a spare key or their supposition that I thought the glove box was a good place to store them, makes me look like an idiot and I'd hate for anyone to think that of me!
Well, I'll be off to the tire shop on Wednesday and I won't have to worry about anyone finding my spare keys. Where did I put those keys, anyway?
Travis is doing the happy dance on his blog tonight!
My eyes widened and I mouthed back, "Thank you!"
I don't know what he thought I said, but he told me again and started pointing. I nodded my head and said, "Thank you!" again and smiled. He then drove off in a hurry.
Pulled off fast. So fast that I wonder if he thought, "Yup! I see the sharpie eyeliner. That's her, alright! I'm outta here!"
There was a gas station just down the road and even though there are bars on all the windows and doors and I see cops there all the time, I decided to pull into the lot and air up.
As soon as I opened my door I could hear a fast hissing sound. Oh, this can't be good.
I walked to the tire and-
Hey! Wait a minute! It's not flat!
Oh, oops. Wrong tire. I swear that guy pointed at the right tire.
It was my left tire and the air was slithering out like a rattlesnake with a grudge. I'd ran over a stupid bolt! I quickly went to grab the hose when I noticed that the hoses were cut. DUH! Bars on the windows! What else could I expect?!?
Or maybe they saw me coming, I don't know.
My place of work was less than a mile away and by the time I got there, the tire was pretty much flat. I have a great boss and he volunteered to put the spare on for me. He said I wasn't dressed to change a tire and right there I decided that I will never wear jeans to work again!
I shoveled everything out of my trunk and Ken (my boss) dug the spare out. I grabbed the owner's manual from the glove box, opened it, and
Hey! THAT'S where the spare keys are!
Travis and I have been having this debate for 4 years now about whether the dealer gave us the spare keys or not. I was pretty positive they hadn't and Travis swore they did. There have even been a few...discussions...about when was I going to get new spare keys since I couldn't seem to find the ones we were given (or not given!).
And there were the keys! Ok, Travis was right. Well, I take that back. I think he went to the dealer himself and planted them there. That's my story, anyway. ;-) I'm just glad some stranger at a repair shop didn't find them and think to themselves, "Who in the world would carry spare keys IN THEIR CAR???!!??" I'm so glad I don't have to answer that question because either way, the fact that I drove around for 4 years without a spare key or their supposition that I thought the glove box was a good place to store them, makes me look like an idiot and I'd hate for anyone to think that of me!
Well, I'll be off to the tire shop on Wednesday and I won't have to worry about anyone finding my spare keys. Where did I put those keys, anyway?
Travis is doing the happy dance on his blog tonight!
Don't Park Under the Apple Tree
My kids are now back in school and everything, homework included, is in full swing. There is even talk about the first field trip the K-2nd graders will be taking.
It's a tradition. Every year this age group goes to Gitzich Ranch where they learn about apples, apple trees, apple juice, and the adults in the group learn about buying apple pie. This field trip is often well chaperoned simply because of the apple pie.
When my daughter Hannah was in Kindergarten and Rebecca in 1st, I was crazy enough-I mean priveledged!- to chaperone this field trip. (And yes, I bought an apple pie!) I piled six kids into my infamous Expedition and had a lot of fun watching their little faces stand in awe of the...
...play house hay bales!!!
Of course it wasn't the apples!
And you never see kids so eager to eat an apple anywhere other than at an apple farm! My daughters enjoyed it so much that I decided to take my son there. He was still in preschool, so I figured I would enjoy a little time alone with my son and took him to Gizditch Ranch on my day off from work.
I had Fall Fever, big time! Apple farms will do that to you! I could smell the crisp Autumn air, I could smell the apple pie, and all that red and white gingham was stirring the Martha Stewart in me! I also had a brand new Honda Accord and driving around in something that clean was stirring up the Martha Stewart in me so bad that my hair was beginning to cover half of my face...and it didn't bother me...and I liked it! Well, I don't know if I'd go THAT far.
So, off we go, my 3-year-old and I, to Gizditch Ranch. He was so excited! His sisters had told him all about the hay bales and he was ready to experience every minute of it.
We drove the country roads, pulled into the ranch, and I began to search for a parking spot. There must have been another 500 school groups there because I was having a hard time finding a parking spot. And I'm not too great at parking, so I don't try to squeeze into those tiny parking spots that is only there because some huge monster truck took up two spots somewhere in the lineup.
But then (sound of angels singing) a minivan backed up. YES! Even if she was moving because she judged the space was too small, it should be no problem for my Honda Accord! SaaaaaaaaaWEET!
It's a tradition. Every year this age group goes to Gitzich Ranch where they learn about apples, apple trees, apple juice, and the adults in the group learn about buying apple pie. This field trip is often well chaperoned simply because of the apple pie.
When my daughter Hannah was in Kindergarten and Rebecca in 1st, I was crazy enough-I mean priveledged!- to chaperone this field trip. (And yes, I bought an apple pie!) I piled six kids into my infamous Expedition and had a lot of fun watching their little faces stand in awe of the...
...play house hay bales!!!
Of course it wasn't the apples!
And you never see kids so eager to eat an apple anywhere other than at an apple farm! My daughters enjoyed it so much that I decided to take my son there. He was still in preschool, so I figured I would enjoy a little time alone with my son and took him to Gizditch Ranch on my day off from work.
I had Fall Fever, big time! Apple farms will do that to you! I could smell the crisp Autumn air, I could smell the apple pie, and all that red and white gingham was stirring the Martha Stewart in me! I also had a brand new Honda Accord and driving around in something that clean was stirring up the Martha Stewart in me so bad that my hair was beginning to cover half of my face...and it didn't bother me...and I liked it! Well, I don't know if I'd go THAT far.
So, off we go, my 3-year-old and I, to Gizditch Ranch. He was so excited! His sisters had told him all about the hay bales and he was ready to experience every minute of it.
We drove the country roads, pulled into the ranch, and I began to search for a parking spot. There must have been another 500 school groups there because I was having a hard time finding a parking spot. And I'm not too great at parking, so I don't try to squeeze into those tiny parking spots that is only there because some huge monster truck took up two spots somewhere in the lineup.
But then (sound of angels singing) a minivan backed up. YES! Even if she was moving because she judged the space was too small, it should be no problem for my Honda Accord! SaaaaaaaaaWEET!
The minivan drove down the row a bit and with a smile on my face, I began to pull into the vacant spot. The minivan stopped in front of another minivan, apparantely a friend, and I caught a brief moment of eye contact with both of them. They had the strangest looks on their faces. I was smiling at my fortune, but they were looking at me like...well, like I was nuts or rude or...I don't know what!
I'm thinking, "Am I taking her spot? Was she planning on coming back and thinking that no one was going to park there while she did a little socializing? Am I being rude in some way and don't even know it?
"WHAT IS THAT SOUND???
"Ahhhhh...yes. I'm parking under an apple tree. Those are just branches. I hope they don't scratch my brand new car, though.
"Wow! Those are some seriously loud branches! I think that's going to leave a scratch."
I got out of my car, unbuckled my son from his car seat, and together we headed off toward the hay bales. Unfortunately, the hay bales were gone and it took some time, but I was finally able to convince my son that the tour through the apple trees truly was going to be fun.
And it was. And I bought another pie. And it was time to go.
We went to the car, buckled, and I began to back out.
"HOLY COW!!! Those branches are INCREDIBLY LOUD!!!"
I decided that maybe I should get out and have a look.
Oh...my...goodness!!!
Those weren't branches. Rather, it was a single branch. Only a BIG one. To be more exact, it USED to be a branch. It was a branch that had been cut off and it's stump was as large around as a Christmas tree stump. It hung out a bit and I...well, I just didn't see it.
I'd like to think that perhaps I'm still as smart as the minivan driver, as it would have been in her windshield, I'm sure, so she had no choice but to see it, but I don't think Travis would have bought it. He barely bought the fact that I didn't see it!
It left a very long and deep scratch on my hood and sunroof. It wasn't pretty.
I took it to the same shop that repaird my Expedition after taking it through the car wash. Unfortunately, they recognized me and I'm not sure if the look I saw was a look of, "Oh, brother. I can't believe she's back," or "We better suck up to this one because she could bring in a lot of profit!"
The cost was suspiciously the same amount as my copay, again $1000, and since I didn't have $1000, I decided the repair wasn't totally necessary.
As you can imagine, Travis wasn't too happy that our car of 2-weeks old was already damaged and I don't know what it is about guys and cars, but he still gets a little riled when he thinks about it.
Well, here is a picture of the scratch and proof of why you should never park under the apple tree!
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