Live is never boring with children.
I blame all my gray hairs (or silver highlights as I prefer to call it) on the boys.
Yesterday afternoon, after Younger Son had left to go to work, I get a call at work. YS was on the side of the road, with truck and a blown tire. Yup, not just flat, but blown. Same tire that Hubby had pumped up a day or 2 before. (Hmmm, must tell him to check more carefully when tires go down so fast.)
Luckily he was only going about 25 mph, since a bus had just been stopped ahead of him. But he was unable to reach Hubby. After YS had left for work, Hubby had gone out to barn, and was doing general time filling farm stuff outside. And Hubby does not have a cell phone. YS had been trying to reach him and was getting frantic. After calming YS, I told him call his co-worker and explain he will be late and then call home and actually leave a message on the answering machine. After several calls back and forth, he finally got to straighten things out.
My co-worker was heading home at the time so she picked him up and took him to the farm. And later Hubby and I drove to to where he left the truck and changed the tire and delivered truck to son. Only an hour late, and milking had started a half hour late so he didn't miss a lot.
Later Younger Son reported that his co-worker had almost overslept and thanked him for calling her. He replied, oh yeah, it sure was lucky I blew a tire then.
I wonder where he gets his warped sense of humor?
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