Life's Happy Little Accident: Compliments of the Dick Near You

After 5 days of meets in 6 days, we played hookie from swimming the other day.

Why would such a dedicated swimming family do such a thing?

Someone decided to let the air hiss out of the two passenger side tires on CG's Mini at our latest swim meet Tuesday evening.

It appears someone didn't like him parking in front of their mansion on Mercer Island.

Sigh.

Of course, my absent minded husband didn't notice and drove on the highway for a scant handful of miles and the 10 month old tires were shredded.

Of course, he had three kids with him--two of which we were carpooling home.

I came to the rescue in my trusty SUV steed.

Of course, my car was filled with a red wagon, pop up tent, four massive swim bags, two existing kids, and coolers which required repacking my SUV to fit six kids, a wagon, cooler, and said massive swim bags, plus three more. We stuffed the gigantor pop up tent diagonally in CG's Mini.

Re-packing a SUV on a narrow shoulder while cars careen at highway speeds at dusk at you?

Whooo-ey, fun, my friends. Priceless.

Took said kids home. Dropped our kids home with warnings to make dinner and then straight to bed. Whiplashed back with dinner for CG who had been waiting on the side of the road for 2 hours.

In that time?

Roadside assist couldn't find a blasted contracted tow truck.

We ate in my car while CG juggled three phone lines trying to get someone out there. We finally paid $300, despite roadside assist before the tow truck driver would come. We were promised it would be reimbursed, but my thought wandered to people who don't have a credit card to give over the phone. SOL!

We finally got our car towed to the tire dealer we had a warranty with and got home just 30 minutes or so after midnight.

8:45 PM to 12:30 AM to get towed and home? Ridiculous.

So, that 7:45 practice that requires a 6 AM wake up the next day? That soooo was not happening.

So we played hookie. We slept in.

Well the four of us without a swimming attendance requirements. Eldest went to see Harry Potter with a friend and then went off to an oh-so-luxurious afternoon practice.

Oh, well maybe the three of us, since CG has this little thing called a job.

We took CG to tire store. We got curry for lunch. We argued the warranty and got 2 tires for $130 instead of the $400 offered. We dropped CG at Starbucks to be a corporate wageslave.

We shopped for stuff we didn't need. PB got four outfits. The poor boys got socks.

We drank cool drinks at Starbucks and played board games waiting for CG to finish, scooped Eldest after practice, and then went on an impromptu foray to a restaurant made famous by Sir Mixalot.

Yes, my friends, we went to "Dicks, the place where the cool kids hang out."

The burgers were terrible, soggy fries, and five cents for ketchup.

Pretty much living up to the reputation of a restaurant lauded by a 2 bit, 80's rap star that CG's pimply-faced self listened to in high school.

Yes, what an outrage that we had to pay for ketchup especially since PB practically mainlines the stuff.

And yet, we had grins on our faces.

Fifty cents later for ketchup and another $30 for crappy food, we were off with a smile to find a park.

We found this strange, but cool park on top of a reservoir that we found. Yes, you heard that right--- an underground reservoir in the middle of urban Seattle.

There was a odd troup of hoola hoopers there. A dozen scantily clad women flipping hoops on ankles and necks. Some even lit up. There was even a token or two of men. It made me think of People's Park in Berkeley, but greener and cleaner. We are in Seattle after all --albeit in Sir Mix-a-Lot's old 'hood.

We ate greasy food, not caring about upcoming swim meets. We dipped toes in water fountains. We swung on swings. We watched bizarre hula hoopers. Then we played a raucous hour long game of TV tag. Never would this have happened without two blown tires...making lemonade as usual, my friends.

Ever played? I admit, it's been a while. It's a game of tag where you must yell a cartoon character and squat tot he ground before the person who is it tags you.

Believe me, it's hard to come up with a unique character, yelling "Woody Woodpecker" or "Mighty Mouse," before a kid in much, much better shape tags you.

Then they ask, "Who's Mighty Mouse?"

When you are it, they shriek,"Lois."

I say, "Who?"

"You know, mom, from Family Guy."

Uhhhh....Sigh.

My strategy was in using my mind, rather than running. I went through Looney Tunes, Tom & Jerry, the Disney Princesses, Simpsons, Scooby Doo, Flintstones, Jetsons...

So smart I was. Up and down. Squat after squat. Nope, no running for me. Squat, squat, lunge, hunch, squat...

I haven't been able to walk straight for two days. Seriously. I couldn't sleep the first night because of my throbbing thighs.

Perhaps my lazy butt should have run instead of testing my memory?

Perhaps I shouldn't have eaten a crapload of grease which made me think my 36 year old butt could still gracefully work off those calories with each lunge and swirl like I was six?

Perhaps CG should have parked on the west side of the road or used the free valet parking for his precious Mini?

Perhaps?

I think not. For while we now have costly new tires and I, screaming thighs, I still have a smile on my face.

I like it when life's little accidents turn into some much needed down time.

So yes, inconvenient tires costly, thighs screaming, and yet still a smile.

So to that someone who didn't like CG parking in front of your mansion? I'll call you Dick.

So say there, Dick, thanks for mini-vacation. Our posse had fun on Broadway:




I am sure that is not what you intended. Dick!

Thx for the Flickr pics by timo_w2s

'lisciously scribed by Scout's Honor @ 8:35 AM