What a Stinker
Yesterday, being the totally and completely cool parents that we are, SuperHubby and I took the boys on a mystery trip to Columbia to EdVenture Children's Museum. Okay, I admit it, they were just my ticket in.
We rented a van. We had to. We just don't trust the suppository to make the trip to Columbia. Most days we don't trust her to make the trip to North Chuck.
She spent the evening at the airport. She knew she'd been temporarily replaced by a younger, more modern model. (Does everyone know they make vans where the doors open automatically? Wowzer.)
We come back from a long day trip and pick the old girl up. I make a quick jaunt to Mt Pleasant to run to Target (priorities). Then...she sputters out on me. Oh, she gave it a valiant effort, but after much chugging around Mt Pleasant, me calling SH and yelling the famous line from Speed ("Get on or stay off?!") and a lot of fervent prayers, we coasted into the church parking lot and promptly died. Lovely.
So I was stranded in Mt Pleasant, with SH needing me to be home in 30 minutes so he could leave. He ended up having to drag the boys out again all because the suppository was being a big baby. I personally believe she is rebelling simply because she didn't get invited on the trip and her feelings are hurt. She is, most appropriately, being a stinker.
Today she acted a little better. She cranked for SH. I think this is also part of the old girl's plan. Make me look like an idiot. Cranked right up for SH. He didn't say anything, but he had that look. I'm sure he doubted the theatrics of 24 hours ago.
So...whomever plans to bless me with a Jeep Cherokee or Land Rover...now's the time. I'd like it red or blue, but will take any color and paint if you prefer.
Thanking you in advance, I remain... The Queen of All Vehicular Drama.
1 comment:
I feel your pain.
My last company car would leave me stranded and I have to get it towed to the shop only to have it crank up the first time for the mechanic. Repeatedly.
I finally decided that I would fake the car into thinking it got carried around for a half hour on the back of a flat-bed by “giving it CPR”. I’d push on each of the 4 corners of the car repeatedly for a while.
I felt stupid doing it, but she cranked every time after doing that. Go figure. And I didn’t feel as stupid as having to explain to the mechanic that, honest this time, the blasted thing wouldn’t start for me. Really.
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