So, yesterday was a day...

Brigid and I went for a little drive yesterday, to visit Jen and Elizabeth.

And we had a fantastic time!

Not that this is a surprise at all, or anything, because when there are princess dolls to be played with, and macaroni and cheese to be eaten, you really have no choice but to have an awesome time. But still...Jen is great to talk with, and even though Brigid seemed a little overwhelmed at first (which she always is around new people...), she warmed up to Elizabeth by the end of the day, to the point that when Elizabeth talked to her, B no longer felt the need to duck her head and run to my side.

In fact, I believe her exact words were 'go away, mommy', but whatever...









So, everything was fun, and we left around 2pm, and Brigid was happily eating a cookie in the backseat, and I'm thinking about how I can get her home and down for a nap by 2:45 at the latest, and then...

AND THEN!!!





Why, yes, that is a very bad picture showing how the majority of my tire separated from itself, while I was still almost 30 miles from home. I had noticed that something didn't feel right, and I was in the process of pulling onto the exit ramp when it went, so we weren't stuck on the side of the interstate of anything. But we weren't exactly at a gas station, either.

I do have roadside assistance, which is nice, except for the part where they originally quoted me a THREE HOUR WAIT to get someone out to me, before calling me back to tell me they'd found someone who could be there in 45 minutes. I thought about changing it myself, but Steve didn't want me putting the car up on the jack with B in the backseat, in case I did it wrong and it all came down (he has a lot of faith in me, doesn't he?), and I couldn't get her out of the car to do it, so we waited.

But while we waited, a very nice gentleman stopped and offered to fix it for me. And I let him, because he seemed nice enough as he told me all about his four-year old daughter, and we were on a relatively active exit in the middle of the day, and I was concerned we were going to get hit by a car at any minute. And I was growing tired of watching the turkey vulture enjoying his lunch of roadside death.

Plus, I had pepper spray in my pocket (because in an odd case of coincidence, my mother and my mother-in-law decided, completely separate from each other, that pepper spray makes an excellent Christmas present, so I keep one in my car at all times...).

And then I drove 55-ish all of the way home, on a mostly 65MPH highway, which earned me a lot of fans in the greater Atlanta area.

And now, because these are the things that always happen to me, I am never allowed to travel more than 10 miles from our house, alone, ever again.

The end.