I'm having car troubles. I'd like to say it started on Saturday, but in retrospect maybe that "bad gas" I thought I had got earlier in the week wasn't really bad gas.
Saturday afternoon we were going apple picking. Me, Husband and the boys, including Husband's 16 year old step-son from his first marriage (talk about an age range in the boys). On our way, we stopped to get drinks at McD's and while in the drive-through line my car stalled, but it started right up again. I blamed it on the "bad gas" and Husband suggested filling up before we headed out further into the country. Once I filled the car (a 2003 PT Cruiser with a super cool paint job) up she ran fine all afternoon. We probably put a hundred or so miles on her.
After dinner Husband was going to drive his step-son home, but I offered to drive as he has a hard time seeing at night. We dressed Monkey and Turkey in their PJs, under the impression we would be home by 8:30 and they could go straight to bed.
We started out on the interstate, for the first seven or so miles the car was fine. Then all of a sudden she started surging and speeding up. That was scary.
Then when I stepped on the gas she didn't want to speed up, and she started making strange sounds. I made the decision to get off the highway as soon as I could. I glided through the toll place and then the car stalled again. Turkey kept asking me to put on jazz music (as it calms him), but our station was playing "world beat" instead.
We got the car started and pulled into a truck stop.
Husband and I looked at the car, the best we could, and Turkey freaked out. He couldn't be anywhere near the car. So step-son hugged him tight in the parking lot. Once Husband determined the car was not drive-able I headed into the truck stop with the boys. I had promised Turkey some desert while we were out anyhow. Husband called my uncle to come rescue us, and his brother to come get his step-son to bring him home. Turkey and I ordered triple-chocolate cake, some Oreo pie and large milks. While we waited for our food he insisted he pray for the car. So we sat in the dinner with him reciting the Our Father over and over again.
Once my uncle got there we unloaded our car, and waited for the tow truck. After what seemed like forever, the tow truck arrived and we bidded ado to our car.
We were so thankful my uncle was there to rescue us, I know he would never leave us (or any of his family) stranded, but it was late (after 11 by the time we got home) and we live a good distance from him.
On Tuesday they finally had a chance to look at my car, and the verdict was "transmission". One of the most feared words when dealing with car repairs. Figures, I just put four new tires on the car the week before.
So that's what goes bang in the middle of the night, my car's transmission.
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3 comments:
Sorry to hear about the car troubles. Never a fun thing.
sorry to hear about your car...I love reading your blog Kate..you have such a clever way of writing
Ugh. That just stinks!
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