Oh, the Trauma!

I'm never driving again. The lack of power steering is one thing, but when your car starts making noises similar to those a cow would produce if he were trapped under your vehicle, things have gone too far. Why me? The car always behaves perfectly when Adam takes it for a spin, even if it's missing a rather crucial piece of its anatomy (ask Adam what the most important step to changing the oil is). All I wanted was to head out to see my lovely friend Lu before she heads out to serve a mission for our church (by the way, she's going to be a positively wonderful missionary). And our car, lovingly christened Zippy, was not up to the challenge. I felt like Madeleine's Miss Clavel, thinking, "Something is not right," as I drove through a light and the rumbling/grinding/shaking/bumping started.In this wonderful age of cell phones, Adam was just a call away, ready to soothe my fears and laugh at my cow analogy. After many predictions of a more dire nature, we discovered that a flat tire (unrelated to any bovines) was the simple cause of my woes. Adam got it changed pretty quickly (cause he's handy like that) and all is well. Other than the fact that we can't drive until we get a new tire. And I'm never driving again.

*images from milchkleid.de and lockportslugline.files.wordpress.com.