Driving
That's a weird noise.
Um..that doesn't sound good.
Yeah, probably not.
No, it sounds like a flat tire.
No way.
Megan, it's a flat tire.
Fine, I'll pull over and look.
Pull over, look.
It's a flat tire.
No way.
Nobody has been witness to as many blatant problems with my car as Lisa has. She got out of the back seat once, shut the door, and a unknown metal piece of significant size gave up on her driveway. And after walking her to her house a few blocks from where Front Righty ceased today, I took a moment to appreciate growing up in The Bubble*, because at any given point, you are probably within walking distance of a house you recognize. And because the Rod's live very near where you are stranded and will take you out of the sun into their beautiful home and feed you brownies and coffee until the AAA man comes.
Flat tires should happen more often.
*I added three b's to the middle of this word when I typed it. Why don't any words have three letters in a row?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
um, hi. my name is whitney! and i've been really missing out on an amazing world of meggin' for my whole life. it's like a whole new world... but in a good way ;) please make this whole blog into a book. and then mail it to me so i can read it in your treehouse with hot cocoa. love you!
p.s. this is now the third time i've tried typing the picture. dang it!
umm, i feel like you left a part of this wonderful story out....:*)
Post a Comment