Mars' New Car
Today I destroyed my husband's new car.
Oh, he's quick to say I didn't do it, that it wasn't my fault, but I was sure the one driving it when it went bananas!
When I got in, I couldn't turn the radio on, and I had a sinking feeling about it. I called Mars on my cell to ask if maybe there was a trick, but he told me to do exactly what I'd been doing (he also didn't believe that's what I'd been doing; typically, he just kept repeating his instructions as if I hadn't understood what "push the volume knob" meant).
So I drove in silence to my destination. Three hours later, when I got in to drive home, I couldn't turn on the headlights either. I don't think I've ever driven the car at night though, so again I called Mars to ask how to turn them on. Deja vú.
Suddenly the dash lights flickered, the battery light came on, and for one brief second the headlights flashed on before everything went dark. It was just enough light to register the smoke rising from the hood.
I grabbed my short story (no way was I leaving that behind!) and scrambled out, smelling the burned electrical wiring and saying, over and over, "Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!" into my cell phone.
Yep, it's dead. This is the last time I borrow his car. I'm sticking with my nice, comfortable Mommymobile. Yeah, the AC doesn't work and the driver's side window won't roll down, but it's never burned up on me.
And to think...my day was nothing compared to ELF's! She cut off the tip of her finger (about 1/8 of a teaspoon in volume--what does it say about me that I measure body parts in cooking units?) and called me in a panic.
"How much do you love me?" I hate conversations that start like that.
"I adore you. What do you need?"
"I cut off the tip of my finger." *pause for queasiness and exclamations* "But the worst part is, I was in the middle of making a shrimp mold! I tried to finish it, but I just can't do it with one hand."
"You want me to take you to the hospital?"
"No, but can you come and finish the shrimp mold?"
Of course, I did. LOL. She said she called me because I was the only person who'd understand that it was important to deal with the shrimp mold first. But while I was there, I also took a look at her finger and recommend she go to the hospital. She wasn't sure, so we called my mother (if we'd called her mother, the poor woman would have panicked!) who agreed.
So when I finished the shrimp mold, she drove off to the hospital (yes, I did offer to take her!). On the way there, she got stopped by a cop.
"Did you know your plates are three-months expired?" he asked.
"No, I had no idea," she said.
"And you were doing 28 in a 25."
I imagine her chin must have dropped because what she said was, "Yes, and I also don't have my seatbelt on because I've cut my finger..." (she displayed the bloody digit) "...and I cannot buckle the belt with one hand. I'm heading to the hospital."
"Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?"
"No...just let me get back on the road!"
He buckled her in and sent her on her way.
Must be a full moon.
Oh, he's quick to say I didn't do it, that it wasn't my fault, but I was sure the one driving it when it went bananas!
When I got in, I couldn't turn the radio on, and I had a sinking feeling about it. I called Mars on my cell to ask if maybe there was a trick, but he told me to do exactly what I'd been doing (he also didn't believe that's what I'd been doing; typically, he just kept repeating his instructions as if I hadn't understood what "push the volume knob" meant).
So I drove in silence to my destination. Three hours later, when I got in to drive home, I couldn't turn on the headlights either. I don't think I've ever driven the car at night though, so again I called Mars to ask how to turn them on. Deja vú.
Suddenly the dash lights flickered, the battery light came on, and for one brief second the headlights flashed on before everything went dark. It was just enough light to register the smoke rising from the hood.
I grabbed my short story (no way was I leaving that behind!) and scrambled out, smelling the burned electrical wiring and saying, over and over, "Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!" into my cell phone.
Yep, it's dead. This is the last time I borrow his car. I'm sticking with my nice, comfortable Mommymobile. Yeah, the AC doesn't work and the driver's side window won't roll down, but it's never burned up on me.
And to think...my day was nothing compared to ELF's! She cut off the tip of her finger (about 1/8 of a teaspoon in volume--what does it say about me that I measure body parts in cooking units?) and called me in a panic.
"How much do you love me?" I hate conversations that start like that.
"I adore you. What do you need?"
"I cut off the tip of my finger." *pause for queasiness and exclamations* "But the worst part is, I was in the middle of making a shrimp mold! I tried to finish it, but I just can't do it with one hand."
"You want me to take you to the hospital?"
"No, but can you come and finish the shrimp mold?"
Of course, I did. LOL. She said she called me because I was the only person who'd understand that it was important to deal with the shrimp mold first. But while I was there, I also took a look at her finger and recommend she go to the hospital. She wasn't sure, so we called my mother (if we'd called her mother, the poor woman would have panicked!) who agreed.
So when I finished the shrimp mold, she drove off to the hospital (yes, I did offer to take her!). On the way there, she got stopped by a cop.
"Did you know your plates are three-months expired?" he asked.
"No, I had no idea," she said.
"And you were doing 28 in a 25."
I imagine her chin must have dropped because what she said was, "Yes, and I also don't have my seatbelt on because I've cut my finger..." (she displayed the bloody digit) "...and I cannot buckle the belt with one hand. I'm heading to the hospital."
"Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?"
"No...just let me get back on the road!"
He buckled her in and sent her on her way.
Must be a full moon.