If I Don't Blog I'll Cry (Or Drink Heavily)

(Editor's note: This was supposed to be posted last night but as was par for the course last night, it didn't cooperate.)

As I left work this evening, I had grand visions of a relaxing evening, sitting around the table, holding hands and the kids each waiting patiently for their turn to tell me about their first day of school. I think given my history, you know that's nothing close to what happened. You know it's bad when I am about to chug the 2 bottles in my cupboard that say "Red Cooking Wine" and "White Cooking Wine", hoping that someone somewhere accidentally forgot to take the alcohol out of them. Just kidding Dad....kind of.

For starters, as I got in my Princess Mobile I noticed standing water on my seat, the console, and various other places in the front part of the car. Then I looked up and saw that I had left the sunroof wide open. When I came back from lunch it was a perfect, sunny, 73 degree day. Why wouldn't I have left my sunroof open, I mean I don't live in Iowa or anything, where the weather changes on a minute to minute basis? Leaving it open would've been fine, if we hadn't had not ONE, but TWO torrential downpours during the course of the afternoon. Of course, of all the things that are littering my truck, a towel or napkin wasn't one of them. So as I sat down my badonkadonk absorbed the moisture and I resembled a toddler during potty training gone wrong. Awesome.

I had to stop at the gas station, wet pants and all, because that annoying light was on and had been for awhile. As I walked into the gas station to get myself a refreshing treat, my high heel hit a wet spot on the floor. I'm not flexible nor a gymnast but the construction crew just getting off work, picking up their 6 packs, sure thought I was by the half splits I did right there in the middle of Kum n Go. Pretty sure I pulled a groin muscle. Do girls have groin muscle? If not, I pulled something in that neighborhood. Darn cute high heels.

Next stop was my Wal-Mart (yes MY) to pick up dog food for the hungry beasts at home. It was smooth sailing as I parked w/out bumping anyone or anything, went in without doing the half splits, and got my items. All was well and good until I went to reach into my purse for my wallet to pay the cashier and it wasn't there. I trucked it back out to the PMobile, groin throbbing, high heels pinching, and thankfully it was there. I wouldn't have been surprised if it wasn't but I was glad it was. Luckily, the cashier was understanding and sweet so I didn't have a complete meltdown...yet.

Finally, it was time to go home where I was determined to do nothing but hug my kids, kick off my heels, ignore the laundry and dust bunnies, and watch Paula Deen reruns. I made it home without incident and decided we needed to make a trip to the library so I'd have some new reading material to cozy up with should Paula be ones I've already seen or recipes featuring peas. I plugged my cell phone into the wall charger because it was dead (as usual) and figured I wouldn't need it for the quick trip to the library. We set out on our literary quest, cranking up my new Michael Jackson "One's" CD that had come in the mail today (the one bright spot). The kids and I were jamming out and all was happy and bright in the world. Until the PMobile started to feel funny. I'm no mechanic but it just didn't seem normal. I turned down the tunes so I could listen for weird noises. No noises but something was definitely wrong. I pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway and got out to look for something amiss. Even with my lack of mechanical aptitude it didn't take me long to spot the blown out tire on the back driver's side and to smell the burnt rubber. I stood there looking at it, kicking myself for not bringing my cell phone. Cars kept passing by and not one stopped. The kids started clamoring for a look at the tire. After viewing the tire and remembering that I didn't have my phone they promptly concocted a plan. While I was trying to guesstimate how far it was to town, they were in the car making a PLEASE HELP sign and holding it out the window. I had them get out of the car and told them we were going to have to walk to town, approximately 2 miles away. They moaned and groaned and begged me to let them continue holding their PLEASE HELP by the road. As cute as Blade looked standing there holding the sign out for every passing motorist to see, still no one stopped so we began the trek. Just as I was beginning to lose all faith in mankind, a lovely woman pulled over and asked if we needed a ride to town. I asked if she had a cell phone I could use to call 1-800-GI-JOE and/or the in-laws to come pick us up. Of course the ONE person who stopped is also the ONE person in the tri-state area without a cell phone, but she was gracious enough to give us a ride to the library. Once at the library, I called my mother in law and asked her to come pick us up. GI Joe was at an appointment about 20 minutes away and by this time I just wanted to go home IMMEDIATELY.

Mother in law aka Rescuer came and took us home where I called GI Joe, gave him the low down, and then looked forward to drowning my troubles in a big dish of pasta with chicken. This morning I had put frozen chicken in the microwave to thaw. (I realize that some may think this unsanitary and unhealthy, but to date neither I nor my family have died from salmonella.) When I went to retrieve the chicken out of the microwave it had disappeared. All except for the Styrofoam packaging laying at my feet on the floor. I'm not naming names here but certain young 'uns had removed the chicken to cook something in the microwave and forgot to put it back in. Never one to miss a meal, Moose had chicken for dinner, and I had to resort to plan z.

While I was cooking Plan Z, GI Joe called and said that the sheriff's office had just called him to tell him that the PMObile was being towed to impound because it was parked in a hazardous location along the highway. I. NEARLY.BLEW.A.GASKET. I went off on a rampage about how that was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard and it wasn't like I had CHOSEN that spot to blow out a tire, etc, etc. Just as I was ready to break into the cooking wine and drunk dial the sheriff's office to tell them what's what, the doorbell rang. There stood my father in law. He told me GI Joe had called him to tell him about the impound. I ranted and raved to him as well, until he said something like "I thought if I got over there quick enough they wouldn't tow it. But it's in impound now....IN YOUR DRIVEWAY!" And then he started laughing hysterically. GI Joe had drive to where the PMobile was, changed the tire, and asked his parents to come and get it and bring it home because he had to get to another appointment. That was really sweet and all UNTIL HE RUINED IT BY MESSING WITH ME!! Do you see what I have to deal with here people? Who could blame me if I took up drinking...or crack...or adultery? :)

There the evening took a slight turn for the better until the kids and I sat down for dinner, where Blade puked and Ryder fell right off of his counter height chair and landed flat on his back. Maybe they got into my cooking wine too, hard to say.

And with that, I think the safest place for me to be right now is snug in my bed, with a Reese's pumpkin, and my remote.

Thank you for listening, I feel better already. Could just be the wine talking.