Are you singing and thinking of Fred Rogers and getting that good old PBS-style warm fuzzy feeling?
Good, because the story I am about to tell you ... sucks.
Last night Z's babysitter was so kind and brought her to me on campus at 5:15. I took off in a rush to go get the boys.
I rushed so much that when I went to turn left at one of the busiest intersections in town, I ran into the median. Blew out my tire and ruined the rim. Called G in tears. Spent the next 45 minutes waiting for roadside assistance.
I will never ever ever go without roadside assistance. Blown out tires aside, I do enough dumb tricks like locking my keys in the car and leaving my lights on that roadside assistance is an absolute must. We get ours through our insurance. Yes, I really do like them enough to give them a link. They do a good job. I have had it ever since we bought our first car in 1996 (and yes, that was 3 years after we were married) and I have never regretted it.
But enough about that. Moral of the story: don't hurry.
The other thing I will never go without (I hope) is a rock of a husband who is never mad when I do these dumb things, just concerned that I am okay and composed enough to call my visiting teacher to go get my kids before the after-school program calls CPS. (Which they will do if I am later than 6 PM. Crazy!)
Today is a darn big day at work. No hurrying. No mini-explosions. It's bad enough I am driving on a donut.
I like to take my time and do it right. Thanks, Mr. Rogers.
Oh, and I ditched Mutual. And the kids fell asleep in front of the TV watching that fiasco of an American Idol debut. Why did they show all the kooks? It's like rewarding their weirdness. Let's hope this season gets a lot better.