I got a flat tire yesterday. Completely my fault, too. I was trying to run errands and was getting thwarted (darn liquor store closed on Sunday) so I decided to go to Value Village instead since I had an hour or so to myself before I wanted to be home to watch hockey with Mike. So, I flipped a u-turn and went up on the curb in the process. Pop!
Luckily I was less than a mile from home, and pulled into a church parking lot (the one where we attend MOPS, incidentally). I am quite adept at changing tires, but didn't get the chance to do so since the spare was completely flat. Since Mike was stuck at home with a sleeping kiddo and neither of the friends I called answered their phones, I decided to hoof it down the street to the gas station. When I got there, surprise, the air machine was out of order! Back to the car, tossed the spare in the back, walked home. Grumpy and teary and cold, uphill the whole damn way.
At least I got a little exercise out of it, hey?
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