I am a planner. Occasionally I plan too much, like that fun filled day spent in 3 Disney parks. Sometimes I plan a week full of fun. I usually plan the family camping trips. I plan school parties. I like to plan and I love having a plan.
I try to roll with the punches and change the plan if need be.
I do not do well without a plan.
So, on Friday afternoon, after a long morning of running errands, I was traveling down Interstate 25 with the three tired, cranky boys and my brother (who will be 21 tomorrow, Happy Birthday Josh) when my 4 year old SUV staled out.
I handled it well at first, I cruised over to the right lane, put on my hazards, pulled off onto the shoulder and turned off the car.
So far so good, right? Great crisis management skills.
I tried to start it. No luck. I begin to cry.
I start to worry.
What if someone stops, they could be an axe murderer.
What if no one stops, we will be here forever.
What if the kids have to pee?
What if the police show up and find my stash, just kidding.
I called my brother in law, he is good with cars and lives very close to where we were stranded. He told me that I should calm down and he would be right there.
Then I called my hubby Ben, he is good at lots of things, he is a social guy, fun dad and a great salesman, but he is no auto mechanic. He is not far and will be there soon.
Josh popped the hood. The boys try to unbuckle and get out. I freak and tell them they have to stay seat belted in case anyone hits our car. You have all seen those videos, you know what I am talking about. And like I said, I'm not good under pressure.
Ben shows up first, he has a back seat full of product to deliver to his accounts, we call these food emergencies, he can not remove our precious babies from the side of the road and take them home. I get angry and he leaves, he says he will come back with an empty backseat but I am so emotional I don't care and do not really believe him. More tears.
Now it is just me and Josh and the three boys again. I used to change Josh's diapers, so even though he is almost 21, I really don't see how he can really help either fix the car or protect us from some crazed lunatic (no, not me) on the highway. More tears.
My brother in law drives up a few minutes later. Again we try to start the car, no luck.
I have to call for a tow. More tears.
I don't know the name of the shop where we would take Ben's car. More tears. I do not have a penis so this is generally not my job. I make the calls for roadside assistance and get a 30 minute estimate for the tow truck arrival. More tears.
We have now been on the side of the highway for about an hour. The kids are antsy, I am a wreck, and we all need to get home. More tears.
Ben came back, like he promised, "do you want me to take the kids with me while you wait for the tow truck?" he asks. More tears.
Now I really lose it. "No, I don't ever want to ride in a tow truck. I want you to wait for the tow truck and I need to go home with these kids!"
Luckily we have been married long enough that Ben also knows I am a planner and not good in crisis situations. I know you are thinking, "this isn't a crisis situaiton" but for me, really, it was.
He stayed with the car, I left with the brother in law. I did think to bring the garage door opener, so maybe I am getting better at handling this stuff.
When my wonderful husband came home, he brought 2 pizzas and some Fat Tire, my current favorite.
Later that night we found out it was the fuel pump, a minor repair, NOT!! Yes, more tears.