Tires, Tampons, and Growing Up Doyle

I have young adult children, most of the time they even act like it. But not, it's been proven over and over, when it comes to cars....(and I'm not talking about the 7 totaled cars).

The latest problem started this week. The Babies' car has been leaking air in a tire for oh, let's just say

Leaving the bumper sticker on--
what cop gives a ticket to someone who announces
they love their mom?

the whole summer. They have become very adept at putting air in tires. Mind you this is one of the four NEW tires we bought the day William was driving home from college--a whole other story.

Anyway, Caroline wants to go to Mississippi this weekend. We told her the tire had to be fixed before she goes. (I think she really wanted us to say the air conditioner needs to be fixed, but I digress...) All week she was too busy, read had lots of other things to do as well was probably hoping we would do it for her. Friday afternoon came...she could put it off no longer. To her credit, she took the $25 coupon that had come in the mail.

I can only imagine the sweat pouring down her back, her wide eyes, her hands shaking as she approached Big O Tires--the fiercest monster she had ever encountered.

The text started--I'm her mama so I can read between the texts. Let me translate

• "Do I have to make an appointment at Big O" translates "Please say yes and it's too late so I don't have to do this."
• "Are you still with William" translates "Please make him do this." (the truth is typically he would do anything for his baby sister so this wasn't a ridiculous questions--but I wasn't.)
• "But like where do I put the car?" translates "Don't you want to meet me here and handle this?"

Well unfortunately for Sweet Caroline, I have been working really hard in therapy and so did not swoop in to save her--well that and I didn't have a car because Sweet William had mine....(which leads to another question--why do I pay for the gas for him to nanny with my car?--therapist will soon be able to retire or purchase a mountain house.)

Then the phone call comes....

"Where's the tire key?" By this time Chris was home so he could answer since I had NO IDEA--I didn't even know there was such a thing as a tire key. While Chris is responding I am desperately hoping and praying I didn't throw it out when I cleaned out the car earlier this summer.

He could sort of answer--he could give her some ideas of where it might be. Here's how that conversation went.

Chris, "Look in the console--you know the thing between the front seats--or the glove compartment."

Caroline, "They're looking, but really the console? This is awful."

Me, "What's wrong?"

Caroline, "It's full of TAMPONS!" 

I began to silently laugh recognizing this was a far more embarrassing situation than the time Boss had my car (And Then the Tampons Fell Out) That problem also all started with a defunct tire....

Caroline continued, "And you should have told me they'd have to go in my car. They opened the trunk and there were THREE bras in there." (I'm trying to forget she has also been driving around 6th grade boys--quite the life lesson their learning. Oh wait, they have little sisters. Welcome to William's world.) "And it's so embarrassing, the car is full of trash. If I'd known they were going to go into it, I would have cleaned it out." 

Now I just want to know how I can extend an invitation to the Big O tire people to move into our home.

"I have to go. They're asking me something." And then crickets for a long time....

Next text we get asks where we are--no mention of the tire until we ask, and then a nonchalant "they did something for free" answer. That's my girl--if it does't cost us there is absolutely no reason to ask questions. 

The lesson in all this--know how to deal with cars, but make sure you marry well or find a best friend (or your favorite brother William) who will do it for you. 

Gotta go wake up Chris to get him to go fill my car with gas....