Alternately titled: The Time Jenna Lost Her Shit on the Highway.
Friday night was the big carnival at the Country Club. They go all out with games and prizes, a dunk tank, pony rides, face painting, and a giant buffet (complete with cotton candy and sno cones, and a tiki bar for the grown-ups!). Peyton loves it, and London was too young last year to remember/enjoy it, but she was excited because Peyton was excited. And in true third child style, Addy was just along for the ride.
We invited our friends who have their own little girl squad around the same age as our girls, and it’s hard telling who had more fun at the carnival. All the girls had bags full of prizes, mostly due to the fact that they camped out in front of one game. There were ducks floating in a pool, you grabbed a duck and got whatever number prize was on the bottom of the duck. Basically, no skill needed. London was a little upset that the ducks weren’t the actual prizes, and that the eraser she won on her first try wasn’t edible.
We lost track of time, and all of a sudden it was after 9:30 which is waaaaaaay past everyone’s bedtime, we were about 10 minutes away from multiple kids each having meltdowns. So we packed up our crews, said our goodbyes, and headed home.
What a great end to the night, right? Wrong.
Two exits before our exit on the highway, we hear a horrible noise. I asked David what he ran over, he said nothing. We begin bickering about him not paying attention to driving, when there’s that warning ding of terror and an alert on my dashboard. Tire PSI was falling rapidly. I began hyperventilating that we blew a tire and were going to swerve and careen into a tree or another car. Thank God and all things holy David was driving, because he told me to shut up (out of love), and to calm down. It was a rear tire, so he never lost control, and we were able to make it to our exit. It’s pushing 10pm by now, and we have a carload of kids, and we are stranded on the exit ramp. Again, I lose my shit about a car hitting us on the side of the road. Again Dave tells me I’m helping no one. After a few texts and calls, Dave’s dad is on his way to come take the girls and me home, while Dave tries to A) change it himself, and/or B) call a tow truck.
We made it home, and Dave’s dad went to help/sit with him until the tow truck arrived. My tire was a complete loss, but we were able to replace it the next day! And, my white shorts didn’t get dirty while switching out car seats into my father-in-law’s SUV on the side of the road, despite Addy spitting up the minute I picked her up out of the car! Winning all-around!
Hope your Monday is treating you well, friends!!