"This car has some personality. It's called let me cause you some problems."

Last night as things were winding down, I had gone off "mom duty" in my mind and was wrapped in a blanket struggling through "Tale of Two Cities."  Let me digress here and say that I think I need a better vocabulary.  This particular choice in my quest of the classics is slow-going to say the least. I mean what is apostrophise, hob, riving, escutcheon?  My list of words to look up is embarrassingly long.   Anyway, back to the story.  I thought, "All I need is for Andrew to come home and I can close my wee little eyes."  And then there was a sound, not the opening of the door, but the ringing of my phone.  "Mom, there's something wrong with my car.  The fire fighter says it's the fan belt and pulley or something."  As he was speaking  I realized that I had an adventure ahead of me and needed to trade in my picture of ending for a picture of beginning.  I found his location and threw on my brown leather slip-ons over my fuzzy turquoise striped slipper-socks that perfectly complimented my sweats and hoodie.

Normally this would be my husband's opportunity, but he was not home so the blessings fell to me.  Out into the night I went.  As I was driving through the neighborhood I spotted the moon, which Gabe and I had been looking for all evening.  After a quick call home with the good news, I headed southwest on GA highway 85, not to be confused with I-85. Since I was looking for a white subaru and my son on the side of the road I was travelling slowly.  The car behind me had no way of knowing my intentions and so flashed their lights to remind me that the speed limit was 55 not 45.  I pulled over and let him pass.  Continuing on, I saw 2 cars,  one with very official emergency flashing lights.  I made another phone call, "I just passed some cars with flashing lights.  Is that you?"   Andrew answered in the affirmative and I turned and pulled off the road onto the grass behind them.  As I approached, my son's helper who was dressed in a uniform complete with reflectors introduced himself with a handshake and his name and his position with the fire department which meant that his specialty was emergency response.  He had just happened to be behind Andrew when he saw he was in trouble.  He had looked under the hood of the car, gave him some advice (don't try and drive the car) and waited until I came so Andrew didn't have to wait alone on the side of the road.  Well, that just filled my mother heart with gratitude as I realized that the most qualified man in the city was placed in the position to aid our family.  He advised me to pull my car over a bit and remember that without his flashing lights no one would see us so be careful and then he went on his way.

Andrew called the number Paul had given him to arrange for towing.  There was some confusion as we explained that we were on GA 85 not I-85 (a pretty big difference if you're waiting on the side of the road in the night.)We gave them the cross street that the hero fire fighter had given us and then waited.  I was proud of my son as he processed the inconvenience of the situation.  He had finished LAX practice and  then headed over to a friend's to study Calculus.  He still had Gov. homework to do and was hoping to finish after arriving home that evening.  Instead he was sitting with his mom 18 minutes from home, but unable to leave.  So close and yet so far away.  But still he was cheerful and positive.

We had a little diversion when a sheriff pulled up with HIS lights flashing and rolled his window down.  I explained that we had a disabled car and were waiting for a tow truck.  He asked when the tow was coming.  "30 minutes," I told him.  He said, "Alright.  Well be careful while you're sitting there."  I laughed at this comment.  I think it would have been much more helpful if he were to say, 'And here's some pepper spray just in case."  Or, "Let me teach you a few ninja moves before I leave."  We must have looked like we could take care of ourselves.

A few long minutes later, our tow truck arrived.  I had always thought that a tow truck was a tow truck, but  luckily for us, Super Tow-man was dispatched to come to our aid.  He came roaring up,  hooked up the car,  directed Andrew to turn the wheels because he was cranking up the cable, and  Bam, the car was loaded.  He said, "Follow me to Kaufman's Tires," and off he went.  We smiled as we realized we could not keep up with him.  We didn't dare go more than 5 miles over the speed limit because there has been some traffic ticket activity in our family and we're all driving with new resolve.  Well, Super Tow-man was soon out of sight.  When we arrived, we were treated to the car depositing process.  He gently spilled our car onto the parking lot, jumped in and steered it expertly into a parking place.  He filled out his papers and was gone.

Andrew and I completed the process by filling out the information sheet for the night key drop.  Clearly neither of us has enough experience in car repair.  Andrew:"I need Dad's license number."  Me: "I think they want the car license number."  Andrew:  "I'm calling Dad...okay, it's the car license number."  Me: "They want the car mileage. Go look at the odometer."  Andrew:  "148439210"  Me:  "I don't think the car has 100 million miles on it."  Andrew laughing, "OK let me give those numbers to you again."  And then we finished, and then we dropped it the form and the key in the drop box, and then we were home safe and sound.

Sunday, Gabe had shared that he had learned about adversity at church.  His teacher had wisely explained to the 12 yr. old class that just like they wouldn't want to play a video game that only drove along slowly through a field on a flat surface, life is better with a little opposition.  I was trying to treat myself to what I thought I needed--relaxation.  Instead I got an opportunity for a little excitement, and you know what?  I felt a lot more alive at midnight than I did at 9:30.  Life is good.