What a day, What a day.

I awoke to my phone singing “When I’m 64“. The Son was still asleep on his Daddy’s pillow next to me. We ignored it. Then the home phone started to sing at me, “Let me call you sweetheart“. It was obvious that he was not going to let us sleep in. I answered and feigned alertness. “Sure! I have been up for hours! Hang on.” I spit out my mouth guard I clench at night.  The Son woke up, “Hi! Mama!” The Husband was not in the mood for adorable toddler chatter. “My car is dead.” Insert your four letter word of choice here.

It has been a good little car. One of the two of us has used it to commute 45 minutes each way for the past six years. Since February The Husband has nearly 20,000 miles on it with his new job. Our plan has been to drive it into the ground from which it came. Hopefully that is not today.  We are kinda broke. The Husband’s tuition is due this month and we were having issues getting it together already. It turns out that last year (When I worked full time!) we made too much money to qualify for financial aid, and they do not care that The Husband is now the sole monetary provider for our household. You may again insert your four letter word of choice.

The Son and I skipped our usual Monday morning routine of the library and play group to wait around on The Husband to let us know how we should transport the poor, dead car home. So we waited…and waited….And waited. Finally just at the time The Son goes down for a nap, The Husband pulled up in my mom’s borrowed car announcing…let’s go! We drove to the busiest highway in the busiest part of our bustling capital city, parked on the shoulder while praying we would not be hit. The Husband could not figure out how get the little dead car onto the trailer. So we draped a quilt over the front end of TheHuckablazer and I gently drove directly into the rear of the little dead car. It worked! I was able to push little dead car up onto the trailer and then watched The Husband strap it to the trailer with gum and hair ties. Still no nap. Maybe you should choose a new four lettered word this time.

We were supposed be at a photographers at five to have The Son’s two year old pictures taken, since my photographer moved to Las Vegas. So to clarify, we were covered in car ick, The Son was extremely tired and cranky, and we were two and a half hours away from the photographers at 3:30. Anybody see where this is going? Crap is just not strong enough.

We came home and The Son was bathed, in PJs and asleep by 7:04. The Husband shoveled some food in his mouth and turned right around and went back to capital city for class. I am watching yet another SATC and catching up on my favorite blogs.

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