
You may remember about a month ago that we had to buy a new used car for Rob when the alternator on his Mazda died, we had it towed in, and discovered it need thousands more in repair work. That old car is still sitting in the driveway, which is why I'm still parking on the street--and nagging Rob to make the phone call he'd promised to make to get the car towed away for tax credit.
Rob was supposed to pick the girls up from karate tonight, so he could take them home for dinner while I took my lesson. I told him sternly to make sure he showed up--he'd failed me the last two weeks for one reason or another, and I wasn't in the mood to shell out yet again to feed everyone at Subway.
At 6:15 he called my cell phone. "I'm stalled at 46th and Chicago. You'll have to take the girls to Subway for dinner. I'll check with the service station here and be there as soon as I can."
By the time my lesson was over, he'd had it towed, and we all went home in my car. The station just called.
You guessed it. It's the alternator. AND the battery. And Rob for once agreed to work starting at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow for this special sale they're having, instead of the 8:30 a.m. start time he's had for the last four years, and that means that instead of driving him in and taking my car to work, I have to hand my car over to him because I need to get the girls on the school bus, and then I have to bus and LRT it to work. Which will take over an hour instead of my usual fifteen minutes commute time.
At least he reimbursed me for the dinner at Subway.