Thanks a lot, Jack

I woke up yesterday with a dozen things to do–finish my morning routine, empty out my car, take the car down to Walmart to get his oil changed and everything checked, grab some last minute groceries, pack everything into the car (including last minute items), clean out the fridge, turn off my computer, vacuum the dirt from the planted pot I knocked over the night before, take out the trash, lock up the house, and fill the car up with gas–all before 9 am when we would be leaving.

I dropped Anna and Debbie off at Mom and Dad’s house to hang out with the others while I filled up with gas at the corner gas station. I filled up and got into the car. I turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. No radio, no lights, nothing. Certainly not the engine turning over. I jiggled the gear shift and repeated. Nothing. I turned the steering wheel and repeated. Still nothing. I called my parents in desperation. Joseph and Daniel came out to help–and discovered that they couldn’t do anything either. Thanks a lot, Jack.

We decided to go in Dan’s car instead. We transferred all our stuff into his car and pushed my car into a parking spot. Mom called Dad to let him know what we’d decided to do–He said, “Good luck. If Danny’s car dies on the way, leave it there.” If you haven’t guessed, my Dad doesn’t have that much confidence in Dan’s car. Nonetheless, we made it there safely–and even in time for Rachel’s homemade pizza before Aaron’s eighth grade graduation.

I mentioned our car situation at the dinner table, and Uncle Steve’s Dad pipes up: “Well, that could be just a loose battery cable.” I said I hoped so. When it was about time to go to bed and I took out my cell phone to recharge it overnight, I saw that I had missed a call from my mom. Her message said that Dad had gone to look at Jack and that it was just a loose battery cable–so it’s all fixed now. Thanks a lot, Jack!

Not that it’s really been that bad. Debbie and I didn’t end up driving ourselves on the way up–Dan drove us instead. That meant we didn’t get good private girl time–but it also meant we didn’t have to drive, or follow Joseph’s less than stellar leadership (that is, as a leader of a caravan). And Dan’s car does get better gas mileage than Jack does–especially a plus once we reached Illinois, where gas prices range from $4.009 to $4.299 per gallon. Ouch! So I suppose, other than teaching me a bit about humility and flexibility and forgiveness, the switch wasn’t that bad. Thanks a lot, Jack.

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