Did I mention my large, mean husband?

Was today Monday by any chance? I was sure riding high from yesterday…everything seemed to work like clockwork yesterday. Even an unplanned dinner menu turned out well, adding things willy-nilly from the refrigerator. Today, well, not so hot.

My car, a 1994 Volvo, was purchased used and has held up pretty well since 2002. Last year, Mac drew on the ceiling and then graduated to pulling out the ceiling liner. When he did that, we decided that we would not try to upgrade my car until Petra, now 1, grew out of any fits she might want to take out on an automobile.

I think the car knew we decided this.

Ever so subtly, the car engine has been emitting some freaky behavior, such as shutting off at a red light or two. Today, in the frenzy of the half-hour window I had for transporting the kids from swim practice at the WAC to Simply Play, the car decided not to work. (Fortunately this time it was in the parking lot.) Oddly, a gentleman came along and offered to help and had the tools in his car, considering he said he had heard me trying to start the car from across the street where his car was parked. He tried to convince me a little too hard. Fortunately, I could use three wiggly kids as why I was staying put and calling my husband. Did I mention, my big, muscular, a**-kicking husband?

The stranger went away. By some kind of divine intervention, the car started up, we drove to the shop and met my gentle, wonderful husband. However, my mojo of yesterday was gone. The kids and I spent the rest of the day bickering to each other while I tried to explain for the 5,000-th time that "No, we can't go to Simply Play. Mommy's meeting is almost over and we now have to pay for car repairs." [Or we might need to get a new-to-us car from Sports and Imports Automotive ("quality used cars under $10,000.00"), which a friend told me about.] In any event, it was a weird energy.

Did I mention, my big, muscular, a**-kicking writing business, The Write Elizabeth…? I need to find some way to pay for the work trying to pimp my (1994 Volvo station wagon) ride and the camera to take its picture.