Adventures in the Land of Lincoln

Last Thursday night, we packed the James gang in the car and headed off to see Great Gmaw and Great Grandaddy. The trip there was suprisingly eventless. We didn't run into traffic or have any "accidents" in the car. Josiah fell asleep and pretty much stayed asleep all the way there. Taylor fell asleep around 9:00 and woke up about 10 minutes before we pulled into the driveway. He was a little disoriented when he woke up and was happy to see Gmaw and Grandad at 11:30 at night. He, of course, was quickly put into his jammies and headed off to bed. While he was asleep, Brad, Taylor and his Grandma stayed up until about 1:00 in the morning talking. The late night didn't stop Brad from getting up at 7:30 and going for a run. I do have to admit, he is sticking to his goal. So, Becki, you better watch out. Your brother is going to be on your heels in that half marathon in a few months.
That Friday night was where the excitement all started. Apparently, I may have possibly ran over the culver in Brad's grandparents driveway. Oops. I was not aware of this mishap until I was about 10 miles away from the house. You see, Brad's low tire pressure light is a bit of a wolf crier, so to speak. Sometimes, it comes on for no reason. I didn't think anything was wrong. Obviously, something was wrong, because Brad's grandma and I heard a pop. So, I pulled over and she peeked out her door. Guess what? flat tire. So, I head back to the trunk of the car and move things around to see if I can find the four way tool. No luck. I call Brad and he says he doesn't have it, but he and his grandad are on their way. When they get there, Brad pulls out the spare and this new fangled jack that doubles as a lugnut tool. If I would have known that thing was in the trunk, I would have changed the tire myself. Anyone who knows me knows I can't stand to let others do the work for me. I was a wee bit peterbed about this. Sheesh!
Of course, this was after the fact that Brad about had a coniption because his flashers were about out. Little known fact: Brad's car does not handle being on accessory for 20-30 minutes. The battery went dead. So, after a donut spare and a jump start, we all head back to the bonfire that Brad's grandparent's Sunday school class hosted.
So, there's two strikes against us. As we pass a weigh station, Brad tells me "There's the rest of the chilli." I looked at him puzzled and asked what he was talking about. Brad and his grandad had gone over to the bonfire early to help set up and take the chilli. Well, Grandad slowed down a bit too fast once and the chilli went flying all over the driver's side floor. So, half of the chilli was saved and the other half of the chilli was scraped off the floor and dumped out at the weigh station. I really hope some animal didn't lick it up. Especially if it didn't have any hot dogs to go with it.
Okay, so now you're thinking bad things come in threes, right? Not so. The next day Brad and I took the tire to that evil blue store that Mr. Walton owned. His employees inform us that at 8 o'clock, there will be a two hour wait to fix the tire. We didn't mind dropping it off, but it was the drop off that got to us. The lady came out to get the information and then she asks Brad to take the tire out himself and roll it into the garage. Um, hello!! Do you see something wrong with this picture? YOU, missy, are getting paid to do this job. How much do you plan on paying Brad to do your work?? Do your job! This led me to wonder if she would have asked me to take the tire out. Just wondering about a double standard, that's all.
We drop off the tire and go to Will's ballgame. I won't give you the details to that one, but I will tell you that one dad/uncle/male figure of one team member was hilarious. He was pretty much the one man cheer squad for the Little Tigers.
While at the ball game, Brad gets a call that the tire cannot be repaired. Something about a hole in the sidewall. Once again, sorry 'bout that. They say they have a new tire that they can mount. Brad said that would be fine. The game is about over, so Brad heads to Walmart so they can mount the tire. Apparently, those people that wear blue vests that have the lowest price always don't understand the concept that when a car returns to get a tire mounted it does not go back to the end of the line. They told Brad it would be another two hours to mount it on the car. So, being the ever so patient person that he is, Brad pays for the tire and mounts it himself. Once, the tire is on he notices that the center cap is missing. I go back in and inform the mechanic about this. He goes back to the garage and brings back the missing center cap. "Sometimes, I just forget to put those back on," he tells me. There is this thing called quality control, sir. You might want to look into that if you want any customers to come back, because I sure won't!
It's experiences like these that I appreciate the way my dad operates his business at home. There should be a Kenny's Auto and Tire Service in every place that I vacation. So, Dad, please do something about that. Expand, please. Life would be so much easier if I didn't have to enter the walls of a corporate money monger for an auto repair. :o)

The rest of the weekend went fine and I have the pictures to prove it.(Of course, Brad kept saying that I cost him 80 bucks. Hah! Eighty bucks is nothing compared to the 500 dollar engine because of "that clunking noise" or the brand new car because of a test drive in the rain.)

Hope you enjoyed my longest blog ever. Good night!