A flat tire, a dead battery, a fender bender, and keys locked in the car. All within the past six months of my teen's new driving career.
All taken care of by
johnny on the spot his dad.
Though to give my son proper change-tire-credit, he did get the jack properly situated and was successfully lifting the car when his dad arrived to save the day.
All the while his mom stood by
playing with her cell phone wringing her hands like the helpless female stereotype she would prefer to dispel. Mind you, it was my car.
Mind you, I've never changed a tire on my own. Thirty plus years of driving. Though I am good at fetching cold drinks and providing light hearted banter.
But back to the flat tire at hand. When it occurred, we were in front of the main entrance to my son's high school. While he worked the jack his favorite teacher was leaving for the day. He was a young attractive guy. He looked to be in his early 30's. He also looked determined to walk by us as quickly as he could.
Great, I thought. Exactly the first impression I was hoping not to make. I shrugged, gave him a sheepish grin and said,"I don't want to get my pants dirty."
The teacher replied with a look that said,
Like I give a crap, lady. I'm sure you're a good mom most of the time." And he kept on walking.
We interrupt the magnitude of this blog message in order to bring you a light hearted look at what was really going on in The Situation Room the night of the Bin Laden invasion. Not to be missed.