First of all, everyone knows that in this house, Pepsi is evil and Coca-Cola is king… I’m just gonna throw that in there because it was one of the first things I ever learned to say as a toddler. I used to run around singing that I was just a Coca Cola Cowboy with an Eastwood smile and Robert Redford hair. I have a collection of Coca-Cola memorabilia that could clutter up the most spacious of kitchens… so I found it kind of ironic that today, Blondie’s big moment involved a Pepsi Box.
Blondie has a cousin down for a visit and they decided to spend the evening watching a movie. The closest theater is about an hour away, so off she went in her little black mustang that has seen more road in the last six months than it saw in the first 10 years of its existence.
Lately, there has been some friction between me and Blondie because I want her to learn the art of checking in with Mom and Dad… “You’re out there, running the roads, in an older car, and we need to know you are safe. We can’t know that if we don’t know where you are.” I repeat this over and over to her and still, she is slow to do what I want her to do. Now, truth be told I could use the Sprint Family Locator if I were worried, and pinpoint her within 15 seconds flat, but that is simply not the point. I am trying to teach her courtesy and responsibility. I just don’t think it’s too much to ask of our spoiled rotten children who tote around 4G smartphones in cars that are completely insured and gassed up by the unreasonable Mom and Dad of this house to simply send a text or make a quick call every now and then just to check in with an itinerary and an eta.
Tonight, I got a phone call that Blondie was headed to the movies! Wow, what’s this? She checked in?? AMAZING! Then I got another phone call after the movie ended… but a panicked Blondie was on the line, ready to leave the mall. “Mom! I am scared to drive home. I hear a weird rumbling sound in my car…. No, not when I crank it, when I try to drive, it sounds like water sloshing around or waves crashing and it gets louder when I turn off the radio…”
Phone to Daddy asap… Some time passes and I ask my son to go get my phone back from Daddy, who is busy watching Rambo… (obviously I’d rather be blogging.) “What was wrong with her car?” I asked my son as he handed me back my phone.
“A Pepsi box.” He replied with a sigh. I immediately dialed Blondie back. “A Pepsi box, really?”
“Yep, it was stuck under my car.. I noticed it when I decided to take a look under the hood, and I crawled underneath the car to see the motor. Now everyone is laughing at me!” I choke back my hysterical sobs long enough to say “drive safely.” (Now to be honest, I don’t know why she didn’t just lift the hood if she wanted to look under it, and I am thinking she wouldn’t know a carburetor from an alternator, but lucky for us the sloshing water sound was more like cardboard squashing!)
Awesome, now I know exactly what my next blog will be about… Thanks Blondie!