More on how things were getting nutty over here, or nuttier than usual:
We had our grad party Saturday August 15th, and then Sunday night, the shit hit the fan.
The teen's KIA died - right at the same place that the Tribute died back in March. Lad was picking up Mini at a friend's house. He called to say the car was dead. Huh?
If you are following this, then you realize we had one car in the shop, a loaner car, the great white, and now a recently purchased used car that was dead.
Coach was grilling dinner. He sent Tank to go pick up Lad and Mini who were stranded in the dead Kia. They couldn't get the car over to the side of the road. Tank came home with Mini. Lad waited with the car. Coach and Ed scarfed down dinner and then drove over. They stopped by a friends' house to borrow jumper cables. No go. Damn it!
Mini's phone broke, she needed me to take her to Walmart, my least favorite place. On earth.
We recently decided Reg should play golf for the high school, since it's one of the only sports still happening in the fall. He just participated in the high school soccer camp, but soccer was bumped to spring. Tank plays on the high school golf team. This made sense, right?
Coach winced: I haven't worked with Reg all summer. The older boys like to golf and they always want to go. Reg might be pretty bad.
Mini: See, isn't this what I always say? Reg is the forgotten child.
That doesn't make me lose sleep or anything, seeing as I grew up glossed over. Shit.
Coach planned to take Reg to the driving range after dinner, but now he was trying to jump a car that wouldn't start. A car that we just bought in May.
To keep things interesting and stress-free, I insisted that everyone get dressed to take a family photo. I know, I know. I never pretended to be sane.
Backing up the bus: my sister, Ann, used my SLR camera to snap 20 photos of our family during the grad party. She does a decent job of taking a photo, usually. I didn't bother to look at the pictures . . . till the next day. Um, a portion of Lad's face was cut off by Curly's mop. Hello?!
I was hoping to use this pic for a Christmas card, but the missing part of Lad's face was a little distracting . . . so I begged everyone to prepare to pose for another photo. Nothing fancy. Ed was heading back to school a few days later, so I wanted to get it done.
I struggled to lock down a picture time, so earlier in the day I just assigned 'after dinner'. Well, our after dinner time became a tad more tense than initially anticipated with the car thing happening and Coach trying to get Reg to the driving range.
I failed to line up someone to take our picture. I thought about calling Betty, Coach's former office manager, but I decided it was tough to call a friend and ask her to be here at an undisclosed time, so I didn't bother. I hoped a neighbor would be outside. As a last resort, I thought I could just use the automatic timer feature.
Those of us not off messing with the car were poised and ready, translation: I messed with my hair, put on the same dress I had on at the grad party. Everyone else looked fine, I always need a bit more effort.
Lad, Ed, and Coach walked in from the car ordeal. Lad was on the phone talking to the tow place.
Me: OK everyone, get in the yard for the picture.
This is where everyone hugged me and told me how much they appreciate my efforts to get a Christmas photo taken in August, then they skipped outside with arms linked.
Lad was hoisting a chair on top of a table on the deck instructing me to put my camera on it. I was peeking through my camera and telling my eager-to-help people to back up as they were too close to the camera.
I started to feel the pressure of pulling this off. I haven't auto-timed on my SLR in forever. I couldn't find it. Believe it or not, there were hecklers in my yard. I may or may not have given birth to them. Just as I was about to give up, a voice called out:
HEY GUYS! DO YOU WANT ME TO TAKE YOUR PICTURE?
No, it was not Mary Ann. Good guess though.
It was a car I didn't recognize. It was a woman with sunglasses on. I was so confused, till one of my kids hollered, "Hey, it's Betty!"
I have NEVER seen her drive down our residential street before, but apparently her boyfriend's mom lives nearby and they drive past our house sometimes. When Betty used to work for Coach, she used to say that she wanted a live feed to watch as we road-tripped to a national park. She found our family dynamics/antics entertaining. I assume that she drives by our house sometimes because she misses the nonsense.
Not gonna lie, I miss the glory days when I could call Coach's work and get instant advice, assistance, attention . . . like: "Oh, you don't want Coach to know that? OK, I will work it in somehow, but I won't tell him that you called. Don't worry."
So, Betty saved the day and snapped a bunch of photos. I mean, Reg looks like he's social distancing from us, but at least his face isn't hidden. Ann has no problem barking at family members to take a photo, but barking isn't Betty's style. I was happy to check that take-photo box, so thanks Betty for saving the day just like the good 'ole days.
ANYWAY, Coach raced off with Lad and Reg to hit balls. Mini and I went to Walmart to replace her phone. It was a quick and painless trip to Walmart, praise the Lord.
Coach came home, bummed that the golf place closed before they arrived. Nuts.
The Kia update . . . good news and bad. The engine is blown. But, the manufacturer was having trouble with these engines and they are replacing them for free with a brand new engine.
In closing: Our used car will have a brand new engine. Our Christmas card photo is taken. Coach came home at lunch on Monday and took Reg to hit balls an hour before tryouts. Reg made the golf team (which is essentially no-cut), and was grumpy about it initially because he is a perfectionist, but a week later he is improving and has stopped pouting. The car situation got a bit more interesting, because of course it did. That's a story for another day.
Anyone else ever have two cars in the shop at the same time? Or have you ever had someone take a photo of you and they cut off your heads, or otherwise screwed it up?