This morning Violinist awoke me before my alarm, "Fun ran out of oil. I took him to work. The van is stuck on the roadside. Take me to work and Buff and you can go fix the other van."
"Why isn't Buff off to school?"
"He has poison ivy or something."
Upon which I leapt out of bed and saw a notice taped to Buff's bedroom door, "Poison Oak and it sucks!" Hmmm. Better talk to him about his language. So. Off we all went and I, to The Great Canadian Auto Parts store to buy some motor oil, having first decided to not disturb the new residents in The Shop from Hell by looking for oil and having left my baby babysitting the broken van alongside the road, so no efficient person would call a tow-truck on us in the meanwhile.
At the Great Canadian Auto Parts store, a clerk brightly greeted me, "Good Morning! How is your day today?" to which I replied, "Just fine thanks - I always come to the Great Canadian Auto Parts store by 8:15 in the morning, in the pouring rain, to buy car junk." Back I traveled to Buff. With transports zipping past a mere two feet away,we poured oil down the gullet of the lovely van and when that didn't work, tried jumper cables.
"Mom, just touch the plastic," warned Buff.
"Don't scratch, Buff, you'll make it worse."
But the van resisted, unlike Buff who stood rubbing his face and neck and scratching his arms and kicking his legs. I was glad it was raining - it made me think we were less obvious.
I left a note in the van window, "Tow Coming" and felt like adding what Buff did on his note but resisted, and called GG and said, "Remember - I won't tow this baby." And then I dialed the doctor and surprise, surprise, the rottweiler at the desk barked, "Come right in." We spent another forty-five minutes at the pharmacy upon which I finally went in to retrieve Buff and find out what the heck was going on, but we left before they filled the script as I had an appointment at the auto shop for the van I was driving. And since the auto shop had no record of the appointment in their book and Buff was about beside himself scratching, I said, "I've had enough of cars today, we'll rebook this, okay?" And the nice tall mechanic smiled and said that was fine with him.
Buff and I drove home after getting his drugs, which initiated an enlightening conversation about steroids and bodybuilding and how it's not a very good idea to pull off branches of Poison Sumac and burn it to keep warm when camping in the bush. We passed the stalled van still on the roadside and California Auntie called, on my cell, because our land line is down. So I told her, "talk fast!" Buff fixed pita pockets for lunch, but I declined on account of the steroids on his fingers and he is now soaking in an oatmeal bath. I went outside to relax in the rain, and noticed how Bess unexpectedly poked her little face into the frame of the photo above. Hopefully, tomorrow, we'll be back to regularly scheduled programming.
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