It wouldn't surprise me if my daughter begins refusing to get in the car with me. (I know it will happen at some point, put at this point she's 4. Not 14.)
Apparently, adventures abound when I get in a car and go somewhere.
But only if I'm about 5 or 6 hours from home.
I had a lovely time with my family over the weekend. My baby girl and I drove down on Friday and I wanted to come home on Sunday so I would have Monday off to recuperate before jumping back into work.
Besides, I'd left hubby home alone and he promised to turn the house upside down while I was gone in the name of reorganizing and decluttering.
He is a man of his word.
Since it was easier to put my sister's carseat (it's not really her's I guess, but her daughter's) in my car rather than take out my girl's, I squired my sister around all weekend.
Probably a good thing I drove the car during the weekend as much as I did.
That way, when it died, I was only an hour away from my family rather than 3 or 4 hours.
May I just recommend that everyone have a good sister on speed dial?
Especially helpful is a sister who "happens" to be friends with a cracker jack shade tree mechanic and another guy who has a truck especially for hauling cars.
I have two new heroes to add to my list.
Three, if you count my sister. But she's a given.
Since I didn't know how long it would take to resurrect my car from the dead, I wondered how I would get back home in time to work on Tuesday. (Short of driving through the night. I don't think any amount of coffee would help me do that.)
May I mention that I have a good sister?
She volunteered to haul me home Monday. Kid and all.
After an eight hour drive, we arrived at midnight. After checking messages, we found that the car was healed of it's diseases. Sister/friend and her husband will deliver it this weekend.
Those pesky little sisters can be handy sometimes.