Another blog post that was started and needed to be finished; the story you are about to read is based on actual events:
It was a hot, stagnant Wednesday afternoon when it happened. It was unexpected. It was unfortunate. But it happened. The woman and her daughter were in the car heading to track practice. The daughter was sitting in the back seat, dressed purposefully in her favorite pair of running shorts and a “Girls Got Sole” t-shirt that she’d found at a thrift store (Get it? Got sole? Like the sole of a shoe?). The woman was concentrating on driving as she listened to her daughter share fascinating stories from her busy day at school and the adventures from her bus ride home.
Suddenly, the car began to vibrate and shudder…. The woman strengthened her grip on the steering wheel, all the while, the daughter chattered on. “What in the world…?” the woman said aloud. She silently wondered if there was something wrong with the road; there had been lots of road construction and refinishing being done in the vicinity, though she couldn’t remember this particular road being serviced in the recent past.
The car began to tremble more adamantly…. The woman quickly turned down the volume on the radio and eased her foot off of the car’s accelerator. She scanned the equipment board looking for clues. What she immediately noticed was the gas light; it was illuminated and glaring at her angrily. The daughter was jolted from her own thoughts and asked, “What’s happening?” The woman tried to answer calmly, “I’m not sure, but I think that the car may be running out of gas.” She pushed her foot back down on the accelerator with an image of the nearest gas station in her mind Will we be able to make it before the engine dies, the mother thought to herself. She didn’t want to be stranded at the side of the road. She didn’t want for her boys to be stranded at home alone. She didn’t want for her daughter to be late to practice. And she most definitely didn’t want her daughter to be afraid…. so she just kept on driving.
But up ahead loomed an incline, and not just any incline; in a city of extremely level, flat lands, it seemed to the woman that this incline might as well have been a colossal mountain to climb. The car sputtered and shook and clamored as it struggled to make it up and over the challenging hill. The car survived and noisily pushed on. The woman, thankful for that victory, was praying non-stop that the car would make it just a little bit farther. Please Lord, let us make it safely off of this main street and into the parking lot on the corner! The gas station was no longer a realistic goal. And since the car was still trudging along, it was now apparent to the woman that the car wasn’t running out of gas just yet. Something else was wrong.
As she pulled the car very slowly into the parking lot on the corner, she was shouting praises of joy that they’d made it safely off of the main road!!! “Thank you, Lord!” The woman turned off the car and took the keys from the ignition. “What do we do now?” the daughter asked. “We check the tires…” the woman answered definitively. All she had to do was step outside the car and look straight down at the front driver’s side tire to see that it had indeed sprung a leak. It was a flatter-than-flat tire. She was surprised that the exterior hadn’t been shredded. The woman and her daughter looked at each other, looked at the tire, and then resigned themselves to sitting back in the impaired vehicle while the woman immediately started texting and making phone calls for a rescue.
This is a true, albeit wordy account of my recent flat tire experience. The Hubbs was out of town, a spare tire wasn’t available, it has been probably a decade since I’ve had to change a flat tire anyway. Thankfully, a friend of mine lived right down the street and quickly came to pick us up and take us home!
HAPPY for great friends, quick rescues, and a brand new tire! Happy that another blog post is finally finished! WOOT!