The title of this post, however, refers to what happened during all that: at some point I ran over a nail tied to a big piece of plastic which then sounded like I'd blown a tire (and Pop will tell you that I have a lot of experience with that--I blew 3 tires in less than a year on my great-grandmother's old car. And he came and changed them all! Finally, on the third flat, we just changed the fourth tire too). Fortunately, I didn't lose control and pulled into a parking lot (coincidentally, that of the doctor's office, whose staff watched me check my car!)--there was a twisted nail embedded in my front right tire. Luckily it was stuck fast and no air was leaking out, so I was able to finish my morning, meet Mama, and buy (gulp!) four new tires for the van (yep, when we put a penny in the treads, you could still see all of Lincoln. After 4.5 years, I guess it was time). The kids had a blast playing amid the tire towers (really, it's one of the safest stores they can run around in, because they can't hurt any of the merchandise--and at their size are unlikely to be able to topple any of the tires on themselves, though I was watching very closely--and apparently kids do it all the time), winding their ways into little spaces, pretending they were in a forest or a house or a cave. I almost had a mind to keep our old tires for playing in the backyard but decided against it. It took about 1 1/2 hours, during which we all went for lunch and then ran errands to get ready for our Babysitter's 18th-birthday celebration tomorrow.
What a day!
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