We were hurrying to get to the publisher to pick up some books before visiting family for Christmas. I was sitting in the car, waiting for my sons, when one of them called out to me from the front door, "Mom? Do you have something in the microwave?"
"My squash!" I yelled. I vaulted out of the car, dumped the heated banana squash in a bag, and carried it to the car where I squeezed it out and ate it while driving to our destination. (Hey, it's no worse than eating a hamburger while driving down the road, is it? Vegetarians would say it's even BETTER!)
Then, on the freeway, I saw that my gas gauge read "EMPTY." No way! I'd filled it the day before for the trip! Had someone siphoned my gas? Was there a hole in the tank? There was nothing else to do but keep going until I found a gas station or chugged to a fuel-less stop at the side of I-15. Heart in my throat, I drove on until, thankfully, I rolled into a gas station.
My car only took three gallons, so I set the odometer so I'd know when to gas up again, and made it to the publisher with 5 minutes to spare.
To make a long story short, my car tires tug to the right when the car veers or turns right, my 10-year-old slipped and fell at Temple Square when we went to see the lights, my older sons made bunny ears on one another during family pictures, and when we got home, one of the cats was in the house (they are not house cats) and I got to clean up the cat poopies.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
This nice Native American from the S'Klallam tribe let Carolyn play this awesome Native American drum.
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