Friday, September 07, 2007

stupid car

You'd think it was Friday the 13th; that's how well my day has been, and it's 8:10 a.m.

The day started out normally, the alarm went off at 6:25 and I laid in bed till the weather report, at 6:30. Then got my bath, got Kat up and had her wake up Bailey. What's that? O yes, I had the neighbor kids last night. Their Dad is with Kev, looking for elusive Elk. Their Mom is in Wichita on a business trip. So I had 3 extra short people this morning.

The girls got up and around. The boys did not. Andy's tired because he's worked too late this week. (We've asked his employers to not schedule him after 10 p.m. any more on a school night.) So, Andy is tired and didn't want to get up. Tate got up well, but Dual isn't a morning person. At 7:00, we were still working to get him out of bed. But, I eventually got everyone fed, dressed and ready to go. At 7:30, Andy left for school. At 7:35, the rest of us loaded up in the car. I turned the key, and nothing.


Well, the radio turned on, all the dash lights lit up, but no power. No gentle rumbling of the engine. Nothin. I tried it again, nothin. I tried it ump-teen times, nothin. Got the cell phone out, called Andy.

"Where are you?"

"I just passed the Middle School."

"Well, turn around, the car won't start, so you have to come back and get us."

He made the 6 mile trip and was back home by 7:45. (I'm not gonna ask how fast he was driving.) We, all 6 of us, crammed into the Ranger pickup and made it to school and work. I think Andy was a little late, I was right on time, straight up 8:00 a.m. I called the school to have them excuse his tardiness.

Taped on the door of the library was a note from my work study saying she had a sinus infection and was too sick to come to work...but she evidently wasn't too sick to tape a note on the door this morning. If she's sick, why come to campus and bring a note?

O, my suspicious mind.

I really want to call Kev and rant and rave. But I can't. I can't because, well, he's in a tree stand in the wilds of Colorado and probably doesn't have his phone on him. Secondly, there's nothing he can do about the car when he's several hundred miles away and I don't want him to fret and worry about us when he can't do anything about it. But I really want to call and vent. He'd listen, I'd calm down, and all would be right in my world again.

Besides, it's HIS stupid car.

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