Quite a Day

Yesterday, I had one of those days that years from now, I'll be able to laugh about. But right now? Not so much.

Over the weekend, I loaned my husband's truck to my daughter and SIL who are having some car troubles. Told them to keep it as long as they need it. Which might be forever.

This morning, I went into the garage and my car wouldn't start. Clicking noise. Could be the battery--relatively cheap and easy to fix--or the starter. Not as cheap or easy. I called a few people to see if there was any way to tell and the consensus was, put it on the battery charger and if it charges up, it's not the starter. So I plugged up the battery charger and put it on the vehicle.

Then looked at my husband's Mustang and wondered if I could get it started. We still had places to go and things to see. The Mustang started right up and I let it idle and warm up for quite a while. Then we loaded the carseats and babies in the back and set off to have lunch. Then we were on our way to the zoo. All of which is within about a six mile radius of my house.

We got to the restaurant and ate lunch. Then loaded back up into the Mustang and it wouldn't start. So I called roadside assistance. They have one hour to get to you when you pay for this service. They asked me if I needed a jump start or a tow. I told them I had no idea--I'm not a car person, but we could start with a jump.

Forty minutes later, a young man drives up in a locksmith's car. He has one of those portable jump start things and hooks it up. We try and try and can't get the car to start. He apologizes, shakes his head and says I'll have to call back and get a tow truck. "You can't ask them to send me a tow?" "Nope, you've got to call them back."

So I do, and that hour? It starts all over again. In the course of my second call to roadside assistance, I tell them that I have three passengers, two of which are babies and can they speed it up? The young man falls all over himself to find someone who can get there quickly. But he informs me that state law prohibits commercial tow truck drivers from taking kids. There's a height requirement... like an amusement park ride. Okay. So we call my DIL's parents and they ride to the rescue.

They bring her a car, she transfers the babies and their carseats into the SUV and head home. I wait with my husband's Mustang for the tow truck. For two hours. Finally, it gets hooked up and delivered to my driveway. That's right. I didn't have it towed to a mechanic, I had it brought home. Because who knows if my husband will want to work on it and fix it himself or not? That might have been a mistake. I might need to get it towed to a mechanic. Live and learn.

This morning, I'm going into the garage to see if my car will start. If it does, all is right with my world. If it does not, I'm having it towed to a mechanic. I know for a FACT that I don't want to work on it myself.

The question is, will this be a good day, or not? I'll let you know in a minute.

--Sandee Wagner