>Yesterday morning, my oldest requested a packed lunch because they were going to have chicken fajitas at school. I’m not really sure why she doens’t like fajitas, especially given that she loves quesadillas, because they’re made of essentially the same things, but whatever.

The problem was, since we were gone for 2/3 of the weekend and VERY busy the other 1/3, I didn’t get to go to the grocery store. So I had nothing with which to make her a lunch. I gave her my word that I’d have her lunchbox to her ASAP.

I made a quick trip to the grocery store and came home and immediately started on her lunch. She had specifically asked for a grilled cheese and strawberries. After I got everything together, I loaded Abbie back in the car and headed for the school.

As I pulled on to the main road, I heard something pop. I thought I had run over a soda pop bottle and I even looked in my mirrors to see what I had run over. About 2 seconds later I hear this high-pitched whizzing sound and the car starts acting weird. I manage to drive another 25 feet or so and pull over. By the time I could pull over, I thought I had a blown tire.

Oh, to be that lucky.

I got out and discovered that my rear driver’s side tire was half way on and half way off. It was leaning in towards the car, like this: /. I got back in the car, called Paul and told him that he had to come right away. Then, I got back out and while I was getting Abbie out of the car seat , one of Hannah’s teachers called to ask if I was bringing her lunch.

“I’m on my way,” I answered.

Because it’s a more rural area, there was is no sidewalk and because we’re literally walking on the side of the road, I put Abbie on my hip. Not a smart move for a woman about 50 lbs. overweight, but what else was I going to do? Besides, it wasn’t that far.

When I got to the school, I tried to contain my wheezing, coughing, hacking and sputtering before I walked in the door. I signed in, took the lunchbox to the cafeteria where the school secretary met me. I turned around and headed back to the car.

On my way to the car, one of my fabulous neighbors pulled over to check on us. Really, our neighbors are the world’s best. I assured her that Hubby would be there any minute. And about 10 seconds after she pulled out, he was.

It was worse than Hubby thought, but I have to say, I didn’t give him a good description, either. I mean, “You have to come to me, right now. The tire is off the car,” was about all he got. We unloaded one Britax carseat (aka the BEAST of carseats) and one booster seat into the 2-door Cavalier he drives and then he drove Abbie and me home. He called around and found a garage that would: 1. give him a rough estimate and 2. be able to start on the car today. Then, he called a towing service. After we ate lunch, he went to meet the tow truck.

When Hubby got home, he reported yet another “it could only happen to us” scenario. The name of the towing service was Angel’s. The license plate even had ANGELS on it. This towing service is located in an area notorious for strip clubs. Hubs looked up to see this on the back of the truck:

“The only legal hookers in town.”

If it weren’t bad enough, the garage we took the car to is owned by people we go to church with.

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