One of the benefits of teaching a kid to drive is the full service fill ups. On Monday, I was heading out of town and it only made sense for me to take advantage. Lucky for me, as soon as we got in the car, a co-worker called me back. I'd been waiting all day to talk to him, so I had to do it then, and I wasn't the one driving, so no harm no foul. All was well until the kid pulled into the gas station just as some maniac was circling the lot in a big expensive car (something I'd rather not pay for). My child was oblivious to this meandering menace and continued to approach the pump. Sensing impending doom and another deductible to pay (already 2 so far in October), I scream "BRAKE! NOW! DO IT NOW! BRAKE!"
The unsuspecting and now audibly victimized co-worker says "Hey, I can call you back...." No way, I scream. I've been waiting to talk to you all day. "I don't like how this sounds. It sounds dangerous," he says pensively. What? No way. How could this be anything less than safe- being driven around town by a 15 year old. I do it all the time!
You're too close to the pump, I say. Do it again. Oh MY GOLLY you're going to rip off the mirror. Do it again. OK, that's better.
The beleaugered co-worker says sheepishly "Hey I made my wife do all the driving with our kids, now I know why." Did your wife end up in rehab? Did she leave you? Do you hate her? Does she have PTSD?
To the kid I say "Take the credit card, fill up the tank." The kid looks at me like I just fell from a rotating, celestial orb and says "I don't remember how." WHAT? I holler like he's just put my clothing on a wire hanger. Just FILL UP MY TANK. The coworker is again molested and mumbles something about the building being on fire and needing to hang up. My Eye, it's sponteously combusting. I continue with call only to see the kid tapping on the window waving the credit card and mouthing "What do I do with this?" He's filling the car all appears OK, but he should not be waving the card so I get out anyway. Did you put it in the machine? "Um no. " That's a problem. I'm so distracted that we almost commited a fuel drive off while my coworker is burning up in his office. Did you know the kid's dad is a prosecutor? I'm already on such thin ice with the fam, Jesus, the CIA, the Southern Conference of Evangelical Baptists.
We survived, the tank got filled, we made it home and I spent the week dashing about. I'm pretty cranky about the dashing so we'll just leave it at that and say that I'm awfully happy to sleep in my own bed occasionally. The other thing that totally blows about being gone so much is that the boys visibly grow when I'm not paying attention. And want to drive cars. They used just want french fries. *Sigh* For anyone that knows us, Andrew is on the left.