Hey, remember last winter when I got caught downtown with the girls in a snowstorm with a flat tire? And how I kind of freaked out and called Sir Monkeypants in tears and barely made it home alive?
Today I was out running errands with the kids and guess what happened – the flat tire light came on!
But now I am a wisened professional at this, so I calmly pulled into the nearest gas station (luckily we were in Kanata, which has a gas station about every 500 metres). Then I dug the air pressure checker thinger out of the glove box and checked the tire pressure (after removing all the hubcaps with my BARE HANDS, because I am badass like that).
Having identified the troubled tire, I made a quick, calm call to Sir Monkeypants just to check and see what the tire pressure should be. Then I passed around granola bars and gummies to keep the kids calm while I put some money in the air machine and filled the tire.
Then, with oily hands that I didn’t even bother to clean, I carried on with the errands.
STONE COLD COJONES, I tell you.
Of course, I am never driving the van again, but that’s merely a coincidence.