January 28, 2013

You Know It's Gonna Be a Bad Day When...

It sounds horribly like a familiar joke.

Sadly, it wasn't funny. At least we weren't laughing.

My van's driver's side rear tire was flat a few days ago. Seeing no visible reason for the airless condition such as a slash, a cut, a nicked up spot, a nail or some other random sharp object protruding from the tire, I naively assumed it simply needed air.

Fifty cents later (and right now that is a considerable investment!), the tires were all inflated to regulation specs including the spare tire on the back of the van.

That was Friday.

Today, same tire... same soggy sides and airless rubber slump on the driveway.


Did I mention my spare tire is ALSO flat... flat... flat as a dead rat on the highway. 

The queen is most decidedly NOT amused.

Hearing my whiny pitiful GEICO lizard cry about the flat tire, Rick got out the air compressor and filled me up enough to limp down to Wal-mart for tire repair.

Several HOURS and $20 bucks later, I am back home with all five of the tires in good shape. Now, lets all hope that pious hope that keeps us feeling secure in the knowledge that the tires will not go flat again!!

I can get behind the fact that tires go flat. What irks me about this entire little episode of shame is that the spare... the SPARE tire... was only good for decoration.

I'm sure my van really needs the decoration. It's beginning to not be good for much else but yard art.
I am, however, reasonably sure that my neighborhood is not sufficiently avant-guarde to appreciate the beauty and splendor brought on by one 1994 rusting, downtrodden, creakily old van, not even if I put a peeing boy fountain on it as a hood ornament.

Sad to say, we have been bypassed time and again for the riches of the Publisher's Clearinghouse and Reader's Digest prize money that they swear to high heaven you don't have to buy anything, give up your firstborn, or sell your soul to the devil to obtain. If that was the case, we should have won all of their money by now.

Fortunately, Beth decided to take pity on me and my plight and came down to Wal-mart to keep me company wandering up and down the aisles of the store. It kept me sane and possibly kept me awake since Jared determined that sleep last night was for OTHER people besides me.

So, I'm about to eat some soup and drink some vegetable juice and hope that there are no other unhappy surprises lurking around today.

God bless and remember that a spare tire only means you have a big, black, rubber donut in your trunk or mounted on your vehicle. It is in no way a guarantee, a warranty or a promise that it will be there to help you in your time of  need.

By the way, does anyone know that a flat spare tire can laugh? They do... I am fairly certain of it because I heard my laughing at me today.