Brave

Let me tell you about my weekend...

It started out innocently enough. I had my daughters, Chaos and Turmoil, with me at our house in Maryland.

Late Friday evening, the storm took out the power. After all the electronic gadgets except the iPhone died, Chaos and Turmoil got bored. We went for a ride to get out of the hot, stuffy, dark house. Rain still drizzling. Trees down everywhere--one of them on top of a car.  Chaos used what battery was left on the iPhone to film the devastation.

We could at least have charged the phones in the car except my stupid cigarette lighter thingy doesn't work.

Traffic lights were out far and wide. Detours. Police redirecting cars... in some cases, the llllooooooooong way around. All the gas stations were closed because they had no power. And my needle was moving ever closer to the big red E.

Chaos and Turmoil were bored again (because, I guess, how many fallen trees can you ooh and ahh over?) and hungry and getting on each other's nerves and complaining nonstop and OH DEAR GOD I'M ON E. In the middle of nowhere. Or I might actually be close to something but I have no idea because I have never been on this road the police have put me on.

Finally FINALLY... yes! A 7-Eleven.

I fill our tank, grab snacks, get some much-needed directions, and we're on the way again.

Chaos and Turmoil are still bored. Still getting on each other's nerves. Still complaining loudly. Only now they're doing it with their mouths full so they're spewing crumbs in the car.

Eventually we arrive back at the house. They've worn themselves out and so they sleep.

Morning arrives. Still no power.

I need coffee.

Back into the car we go. Did you know Arby's doesn't have coffee? I didn't... until we waited in the drive-thru line 15 minutes. And then we were stuck there, behind people actually getting what they wanted. Burger King let me have coffee.

I called and the electric company told me the power should be on by noon. Great. Only four more hours.

What to do? What to do?

We went back to the house, which felt like an oven, and so we didn't stay. We went go-kart riding. Fifteen bucks for three minutes. Okay, at that rate, four hours is going to be mighty expensive.

We managed to pass the time by driving around, going to shopping centers, and getting Chaos and Turmoil some haircuts. Another fifty bucks.

We got home. Noon came and went. No power.

We left again. Grabbed some drive-thru food. And called the electric company. Now the power would be on by five.

Okayyyyyyyyy.

We went to the movie. Another seventy bucks for a 3D showing of Brave and some snacks. But I figure it will be a good mother-daughter bonding experience.

I'm still a little torn about that movie. I mean, I guess it's kind of cool that it's a heroine whose identity isn't defined by the man she wants. But... she's a major brat. I mean, seriously, she makes even Chaos and Turmoil look harmless. She nearly gets her mother killed. And the lesson of this story--the moral, if you will--pretty much comes out to be The Kid Is Right. Hmmmmmmmm. I don't know about you, but it kind of pissed me off to pay all that money to have Disney tell my kids that mothers are controlling idiots.

We dropped another $89 at Hot Topic. They were having a sale.

We went back to the house. No power. Now the electric company said eight-thirty.

I lay down and fought the need to weep.

Chaos and Turmoil, no longer content with calling each other names, started jabbing and poking in each other's general directions. Then they poked me. Then I started yelling. Then my son and his girlfriend showed up and, gentle souls, asked why I was yelling and I let them have it.

At ten p.m., the electric company was no longer giving false estimates. It said it would get to my outage as soon as possible but I should be advised some outages might last well into the following week.

Had the message told me that Saturday morning, I would not have remained in Maryland to suffer.

I called and called but there were no hotel, motel or even no-tell rooms to be had.

At around midnight., we packed our things in the dark, loaded them into the car, and set off for our Virginia house.

We got about fifteen miles, somewhere on Rt. 50, when the back passenger tire blew. All that debris, you know, from the storm.

My car insurance includes roadside assistance but they'd have needed to drop us off somewhere. I didn't want to go back to the dark, hot Maryland house and, as I'd already determined, there were no rooms to be had.

SO ANYWAY...

You should have seen me out there at 12:30 a.m. bouncing on the tire iron to try to loosen those damned nuts and both girls whining that I pulled over in a spooky place and telling each other, "Shut up, stupid." Yeah. At that point, there was nothing scarier out there than me.

Stupid tire hadn't been rotated (don't blame me; talk to my moderately significant other; that's his job) so the rim and the bolt thing had rusted together. Fortunately, a nice man showed up and he wasn't even an ax murderer. He couldn't help me with the tire, due to an injured back, but he did loan me a pry-bar and a mallet, which proved essential to getting the stupid tire off the axle, and he did help with that prying, for which I was infinitely grateful.

So I got the tire changed and got back behind the wheel.

Something wasn't right.

"Turmoil? Mommy needs her glasses back." (A little backstory: Mommy needs the glasses to drive, you see, but didn't want to take a chance on damaging them while bouncing on the tire iron and, anyway, she can't use them for close-in tasks because the damned diabetes is fracking with her vision and everything up close is blurry with the glasses on. So she gave the glasses to Turmoil with explicit instructions to take good care of them.)

"Your glasses?" Turmoil said. "Oh! Yeah! I put 'em in the trunk."

In. The. Trunk.

That would be the same trunk from which I had recently withdrawn two suitcases, four computer bags, and a spare tire. And into which I had just--in the dark--thrown in the same, but a real tire and not the spare.

I swallowed. "On top of everything... right?"

"No. It was empty."

Damn damn DAMN.

I threw myself out of the car, fished around. No glasses. Unloaded everything AGAIN and there they were. Right under the tire. Fortunately the glass didn't come out so I was able to manhandle the frame back into a semblance of its former self.

As I dropped back into the driver's seat, Turmoil said, "That man with the tire thing was great. He's my new hero."

Chaos said, "Shut up!"

And this time, I agreed.