A Tire Has No Silver Lining

I've been sitting here trying to think of a non-negative angle for which to write this blog. After much thought and a couple of sips of Merlot, I've made up my mind that it can't be done. I'll be straight up honest with you friends, this is going to be nothing but a bitch session and I am surrendering myself to the Debbie Downer Vibe. In fact, I'm downright rolling in it like a pig in mud.
It started with a flat tire. The 9th flat tire that Mr. C and I have had in 2 years. I do not know what we have done to offend the mighty Tire Gods, but we are cursed, I tell you, cursed! This latest flat has been a particular pain in the rear only because this last week we have been so crazy busy that there has been not one day that either of us has had a chance to track down a new tire. Have I mentioned that Mr. C's stupid-but-trendy-Land Rover had engine failure at the beginning of the month? And that a week after we got it back, it also got a flat tire? I bet we could go on our dream trip to Italy with the money we've been pouring into these &*$#*% cars. Or as least we'd be rich enough to where I wouldn't have to shop at Wal-Mart anymore.
By the way, there's a little bit on that joy coming up.

Anyway, after 6 days of me driving on a spare we finally managed to find a tire place that would order a tire for us. The tire arrrived today and Leo, my friendly neighborhood tire service guy said on the phone that "all I had to do was bring her down there and they'd fix it up fast- 20 minutes tops."
All I had to do.

I don't really expect Leo the tire guy to know this, but there is nothing really so simple in a mother's task load that can be described by saying "all you have to do." Because all I had to do before driving down to the tire place was wake the baby from her nap, change her diaper, and make her a bottle. Really, she should've had lunch but since we were only going to be there 20 minutes, I could do that later. After that, all I had to do was have the 3 year old go potty before we went, have the 5 year old pack up her homework to take with us, put shoes on the baby, and find a quiet game to take along for the 3 year old. With that accomplished, all I had to do was find the checkbook, locate my own shoes, grab my keys and load the 3 kiddos into the car. That was all I had to do.

So you might imagine my slight irritation at Leo when I got down there, handed him the keys, and he told me to expect a call to pick it up in an hour or so.
"But you told me 20 minutes top!" I blustered, blinking my eyes and mentally scrambling to think if I'd brought the necessary supplies to make an hour in the waiting room bearable.
"Well, yeah. But that was before I realized I had told your husband that I'd rotate the tires." And then Leo was gone, taking with him my keys and any hope I had of at least taking the stroller out of the back.
So I heaved my shoulders, sighed, and looked around at my surroundings. We could stay in the tiny rubbery smelling service office or we could trek the 1/4 mile across the giant parking lot to the Super Wal-Mart. Why, why, why I ever thought Wal-Mart was the lesser evil I do not know because Wal-Mart at this time of year, is filled with Snowbirds. (For any non-desert residents who may have stumbled across this blog, Snowbirds are basically senior citizens who flee the cold winters in their home states by living in our desert for Oct-May. The male Snowbirds like to golf and the female Snowbirds can be identified by their Bedazzled shoes, white shirts, and sun visors. Seriously, has any one else noticed their fondness for tacked on faux gems, or is just me?)

Anyway, this blog is getting too long. Basically, I made the wrong choice and took my kids to Wal-Mart where I proceeded to make more bad choices because I decided to do some shopping. I needed to buy juice boxes for J's schools' Halloween party, some Halloween candy, and bacon for tonight's dinner. While shopping for the bacon, a Snowbird (in a Bedazzled visor, no less) felt compelled to shout "TIME OUT! TIME OUT! COMING THROUGH!!!" at my children because they were-GASP- playing Ring Around the Rosy in front of the cart while I shopped not 2 feet away! God help her if she ever goes to Wal-Mart on a Sunday, when I've seen children riding trikes down the aisles, playing catch with the balls from the ball basket, and throwing temper tantrums on the floor.
I stopped for a minute and considered throwing the bacon at her stupid bedazzled head, but decided against it. Instead, I gave her husband an "I feel sorry for YOU" look and hustled the children out the door. We proceeded to slowly walk the quarter mile back across the parking lot with the baby on my hip, a giant diaper bag on my shoulder, 2 Wal-Mart bags filled with juice boxes in my free hand, and 2 children carrying plastic Wal-Mart bags laden with bacon and Halloween candy. We looked like a homeless family. We took this show into the Wendy's where we wasted more time eating Frosties before the van was finally ready, muttered goodbye to clueless Leo, and went on our way home.

So there it is. The most boring blog ever about my pointless pathetic afternoon. And I didn't even mention that my house is a mess and I have 3 Halloween parties to cook for this week and that's not even counting Baby Roo's 1st birthday party that I haven't made any real plans for yet and it might not matter anyway because I very possibly could get sick and have to cancel it since my tutoring clients were sick and coughing their germs all over me, and WORST OF ALL my Angel's lost their chance at the World Series last night. Wah wah wah.
If you're even still reading this, thank you for indulging me. I promise my next post will be much more interesting, with lots of
cute pics of Baby Roo blowing out the candle on her first birthday cake and the kiddos dressed up in their costumes.
That is, providing I don't get sick. And I survive the 3 other parties. And my house gets cleaned.
I know, I know. I'll stop now.
Good night.