I’m sitting in the waiting room of my favorite auto body shop with both of my kids. You might find it funny that I call this place my favorite but there’s a reason for that. I did a little digging and realized I have had to bring my car in to have work done on it 5x in the last year. I’m not just talking about routine oil changes and tire pressure checks. I’m talking about windshield replacement, alternator replacement, battery replacement, and a few of those oil changes. Do you notice a pattern here? My car is slowly, but surely, falling apart. My mommy-mobile is boycotting it’s job and refuses to cross that picket line and get back to work.
I was sitting in line in front of my son’s school waiting, as all the other parents, for the kiddos to come running out like bats out of hell. Everyone is happily buckled in and awaiting the journey home when……the car refuses to start. All the mothers and fathers are driving past my immovable vehicle. Heading for the exit as fast as they can. Not a single one even looked back to see why they had to drive around me. Just another reason why I’m happy to have moved out of Carmel. These people can’t be bothered to help their fellow man. Thankfully, one lady stops and asks if I need a jump. I would have kissed this woman if it wouldn’t have scared her off. With my car finally running, I hightailed it to “my favorite auto body shop” and wait, wait, wait. Did I mention I’m waiting here with my kiddos? Plural. Two crazy little kiddos in the waiting room of an auto shop. Needless to say, I have a massive headache and my stomach is audibly growling. My son has gone through every magazine and my daughter has tried to kill a plant, eat out of the trash, and rip down the blinds.
The only real positive to this day was getting to vote this morning. #feelthebern.