by Luann Dawkins

Created on: September 04, 2008

Flat Tires

My day started normally enough, save for the bellowing of the cat at 5am. I managed my morning routine without incident, kissed my husband goodbye and went to work. At the office I had an uneventful day, albeit busy, so I turned off my computer at 5pm and headed for home.

I hopped in my SUV and remembered a prescription I needed to pick up at the drugstore. My hometown was about 25 miles from work so I had a little time to unwind and decompress, as I often crank up the music and sing all the way home. Arriving at the drugstore, I was in a chipper mood after my "concert in the car," and proceeded to shop and hum. Completely unaware of the looming disaster that was lurking just outside those electric doors.

I happily paid for my wares at the checkout and almost skipped to my car. As I approached the vehicle, I thought it looked a little "tilted." This is where all sense of realism, proportion, and civility end. Oh, my gosh, I have a flat tire! What am I going to do? Well of course I'm going to call my husband. My knight in shining armor, my port in the storm, my protector from all things bad and flat.

"Hi, sweety, I have some bad news (thinking that would ease him into the horrible truth) I am at the drugstore and I have a flat". "A flat what?", he replies. "A flat tire, silly" (trying to flirt my way out of trouble). "How can you have a flat tire, it's brand new?" "Well honey, I don't know, unless there is a nail in it or something." To which he says, "well what were you doing, donuts in a construction site?"

Now the blood is rushing to my face in embarrassment as I stand next to my car in the parking lot and get a tongue lashing from my husband. "Are you going to come help me or not?" I exclaim in horror, now wishing I had called my car service. His response is in the tone you would use for a child, very slow and pronunciated, and completely patronizing. "Why, don't you go into the drugstore and see if they have the liquid canned tire repair.? Then you can handle this all by yourself." By now I was furious. I clicked off that cell phone, praying it would sound like the old timey phones used to when you would slam it on to the cradle.

I stormed into the drugstore, the same one I had skipped to my Lou in a minute before, and was so angry I couldn't read the signs on the isles. Finally, an elderly woman asked me what I was looking for. I immediately burst into tears and startled the poor thing. "I'm looking for a can of stuff to fix my tire and then I'm looking

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