As soon as I pulled off the freeway to head to Mom's house I heard the noise. The noise was coming from underneath the bowels of our trusted and true Volvo. I pulled up in front of Mom's house and looked underneath the car. Sure enough, there was something dragging under the car, scraping the pavement. Only it wasn't a piece of trash or a tree branch. It was a rather large piece of metal. Some sort of bracket, loose from it's bearings. Nice. No mechanics are open on a Sunday, so I take Mom and her car to my sister's and we (innocently) enjoy our day and dinner together. My awesome husband says, "Don't worry, I'll get Brenna to school on Monday and you stay and get the car fixed." I spend the night at Mom's, call the mechanic in the morning and they suggest to have the car towed in. After a quick call to the oh so helpful AAA agent, my tow truck arrives within 30 minutes. The driver takes one look at the large hanging said metal bracket and says to me, "Wow. Are you ever lucky. How far did you drive?" "About 45 miles" is my answer. "That bracket is the support for the gas tank. If it had caught on something it could have flipped back up and punctured the gas tank." "WHAAAAAA???" is my incoherent reply.
The tow truck takes off with my trusty volvo and we putter the day away, waiting for the mechanic. You know. No calls, don't hear anything on the progress of the car. So, since we were in the area, we paid a visit to the very nice mechanic who has just returned from the dentist. Hasn't looked at the car. (It's now 12 p.m.) "Would you like to wait or shall I call you to tell you what's up with the car?" Oh, we'll wait. We will sit right in line of your vision and wait until you tell us what is up with the car. "We need to fashion a fitting and bolt the cross bar back on-about 2 or 3 hours to fix," comes the answer an hour later. By now, my sweet friend has offered to pick up Brenna from school, I spend the afternoon with Mom and my sister. Mom tells me it's serendipitous that the car broke down, as she gets to spend time with both of us.
The car gets fixed, the mechanic only charges me $100.00 to fix the car and I make the long drive home in traffic, feeling safe and secure.
I have one nagging concern in the back of my mind. My dogs. Both neighbors who have my house key are unavailable to come let them out for a bathroom break. They have been stuck in the house for a looooong time. My older dog would be fine for 6 days and never go to the bathroom. The puppy (1yr.) however-he needs to be let outside, so I figured I would have some clean up to do. Not much I could do, given the situation. This is where I now know you and I are good friends. The pictures you are about to see of my home is something that not everyone would put on the internet.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be greeted by last night's trash. Yep. That's right. Trash. Seems the doggies had entertained themselves in a big way by having a party. With the trash can.
At one point, I caught the puppy happily prancing through the house with a corn cob.
Not pretty. I must say. I was calmer than I thought I should be. Even when I stepped into yogurt. Even when I cleaned up dog pee. The dogs went OUTSIDE, I brought out the camera and thought, "What the heck. It will make a good story for the blog." Next came the vacuum, broom and mop. An hour later I had nice, clean floors. Well, the carpet will have to be done this weekend. I ordered pizza to be delivered and thought, "If ANYone complains, they know what they can do with this left over corn cob!" (O.K. maybe by the middle of cleaning up my frustration level had risen a bit.)
The party planner.
The moral of my story: Try and find humor in all that happens. Get a dog door installed. A lock on the cabinet is helpful. Always have your camera ready. Pizza delivery is God's gift to mothers. And a good mechanic is a must!!!