the trouble with cars...

So Wednesday morning I woke up groggy and tired and really wanting a shower, however, I also woke up late and I had to get the big boys on their buses and on their way to school and I had to get my house cleaned up so my fantastic friend who volunteered to watch Matthew for the morning (so I could go on a fieldtrip with Sam's class) would not think we live in a pig sty.  So needless to say a shower wasn't in the cards for me.
The morning was great- had a wonderful time with Samuel on his field trip- will blog about it soon if I have the time- and everything went well getting home and thanking my friend and getting James and Matthew some lunch.  Then the day went seriously downhill.
The plan was to run some errands, ending up at the grocery store and then hurrying home to see if Matthew would take a second nap so I could fit in a quick shower.  John and I had plans to go out to dinner with his office that night and I really felt disgusting at this point.
Anyway, we finished the errands and the grocery store with no major problems but as I went to start my van it did not start.  There was a young couple (decked out in black with multiple facial piercings) who were parked diagonally from me who witnessed the whole non-starting thing. They offered to try jump starting the van for me.  They were incredibly sweet and helpful, especially when they realized that it wasn't going to work and I was stranded at the grocery store with two kids.  Luckily, I was at the Acme in Ridley Park just a short walk from John's office.  I pulled out the stroller, stuck Matthew in it, grabbed James' hand and began the longer-than-I-thought-it-was walk to see Daddy.  After hanging around the office for a while, hoping John could take a quick break and drive us down to try jumping the van again (yeah, right),  we headed home to pick up Sam who had gotten off the bus at this point and was hanging out with the neighbors.
I pack James and Matthew up in John's mustang, drive home, pick up Sam from the neighbor's house, grab some food for the kids and James' soccer stuff (just in case we can actually make it to his 5:30 practice) and head back out the door to pick up John from work and try to get my van working.  We make it 3/4 of the way back to John's office and... his car shuts off.  I manage to coast onto the shoulder before it stops completely and after frantically trying to restart the car I take a look at the gas gauge- empty.  My sense of humor with the whole car situation is fading rapidly.  I call John.  After sitting on hold for 10 minutes, the boys fighting (Sam and James) and screaming (Matthew) providing me with background noise, he picks up. 

Me:  "YOUR car ran out of gas!!!"
John:  (not sure whether to laugh or not) "Really?  Oh no.  Ok, I will ummm....I'll walk over to the corner gas station and get a gas can and walk up to get you."
Me:  "You'll walk???  You are more than a mile away"  (Boys screaming louder in the background- at this point Sam and James are hitting each other and screaming) "That will take forever!"
John:  (safely in his office and getting a little frustrated with my craziness) "Well, what do you want me to do?!"
Erin:  "I'll call your mom and see if she is home."

I  try both Tip's cell phone and home phone and no answer.  I call John back

Erin:  (no hello or anything)  "Your mom didn't answer!"
John:  "I talked to my dad, he is on his way to pick me up and then we will come and get you."

The next 20 minutes seemed like hours.  I got the boys to calm down by feeding them some of the snacks I had brought ( a serious NO NO in Daddy's car).  He he he!  Sad, but I got a little pleasure out of breaking that particular rule.
Once John and his dad showed up and put gas in the car we were on our way to a gas station to put some more fuel in the tank- despite John thinking it was not necessary,  (What does he think cars run on anyway?) then on to resussitate the van.
No luck getting the van started.  I ended up calling a tow truck (it was 5:15 at this point and I had to give up the idea of getting James to soccer) who assured me he would be there in 20 minutes.  45 minutes later he showed up and loaded my sad, sad van onto the flatbed (a process Sam and James thought was AWESOME) and took it to our mechanic.  As he pulled away Matthew had a perplexed look on his face.  You could tell he was wondering, "Where are they taking my ride?"

We ended up getting home at 6:25pm.  Just enough time to nurse the baby, throw on whatever skirt I had that was clean and wrinkle-free and still be 20 minutes late for the dinner with John's office.  Dinner was fun and they all had a good (sympathetic) laugh about the car situation. 

As for my shower- I finally got one at 10:30pm.