I've been driving for a long time, but I don't know much about cars. Hardly anything, really. Luckily I've never had much trouble (I just had to pause and knock on wood), but considering that I recently drove my kids on a 5000 mile round trip road trip, one might think I should make more of an effort to learn about vehicle maintenance and the like. I actually have an example to illustrate this point, but clearly I'm not a fast learner when it comes to matters of the vehicular nature. How I got to this point in my life without utilizing a towing service, like San Jose Towing, is beyond my powers of comprehension.
A few summers ago, the kids and I spent a couple idyllic, memorable days in Port Austin, Michigan with my friend and her kids. It was memorable not only for the fun times we had (and we had many), but particularly because of a certain incident that occurred at a rural ice cream shop, several miles from the closest gas station.
Between us, we had six children, ages ranging from two months to eight years. Because our mini-vans only seat seven, we were each one seat short of being able to accommodate our entire party, and so we took both of our vans to the ice cream shop in nearby Grindstone City. My friend had raved about the ice cream at this place, and I was excited because ice cream is essentially its own food group in my world. As soon as we disembarked from our vans, all psyched up and ready to enjoy one of the dairy industry's most perfect creations, I noticed that I had a flat tire. Not just a little low, but down right totally flat. Immediately, the reality of the situation struck. On a remote road with no other businesses nearby. Husbands at home, over two hours away. Never changed a flat tire, and no clue how to do it. I had a flicker of hope: perhaps my dear friend was an experienced tire changer? But no such luck. We were both ignorant in the matter at hand.
Because we had our priorities in order, we decided to go ahead and get our ice cream cones before doing anything else. With all the thoughts dancing through my mind, enjoying that ice cream took a great deal of effort, but I believe I succeeded. The next few hours were a blur of trying to convince the teenage kid working the counter to help us (he sort of tried, unsuccessfully); giving pathetic, imploring looks to our fellow ice cream enthusiasts (not one of whom offered to help us out); trying to call our husbands for advice with impossibly spotty cell phone signals; making valiant attempts to get the spare tire off the bottom of my van, which is way more difficult than it should be; trying to keep our kids occupied and safe while entrusting two eight year old kids to look after a two-month old and a two-year old; and eventually coming up with a workable plan.
In the end, after a whole lot of struggling, we got the flat tire off my van, piled into my friend's van (I sat on the floor so all the kids would be safely strapped in), and set off to find the closest gas station, crossing our fingers that it would be equipped to repair a flat. It was, and everything worked out after all. The whole incident gave me a boost of confidence because my friend and I managed to take care of business, although it took us awhile to figure out how to do that. We have a funny story, and we'll never forget that trip to Port Austin. But how much trouble could we have saved ourselves if we had simply asked to use the phone at the ice cream shop to call a tow truck?
Have you ever needed a tow truck to get you out of a sticky situation?
This post has been sponsored by D & M Towing and Transport, but this is a true story and all opinions are 100% my own.
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