How We Spend Our Weekends

Here's why we're tired and haven't blogged any the past week, and it has nothing to do with having a four-month old:

Last Friday while packing to go to drill, we couldn't find Matt's insurance card for the car, so we looked through files and found a copy of the policy; that took about an hour, but it was a minor setback. We packed up the car and Ethan, discovered it wouldn't start, jumped it, went to get gas, it died again, jumped it again, drove home, unpacked all the stuff, put it in my car, and headed to Ft. Worth. On the way, our brakes went out on I-20 south of Dallas as people were slowing down/stopping to see an accident (WHY do people DO that!!??). We swerved in and out of slowing/stopping cars (fortunately Matt was driving), made it to the shoulder and stopped with the emergency brake just behind the police officer who was at the accident. I thought we were going to hit him. Actually, I thought we were going to hit a lot of people. At one point, I yelled, "Should I call 911?", but realized that I wouldn't know what to say: "911. What is your emergency?" "We haven't had one yet, but we're about to crash!!" Matt found this to be the biggest comic relief of the weekend. Call 911. What would they do??

We towed the car to Arlington to a VW place where they said they would try to work it in tomorrow and rented a car; continued trip to Fort Worth. The dealership people looked at the car, said it was fine, and gave it back the next day. Conclusion: we must have had an air bubble in the brake lines. Drove to Dallas to meet friends that night, got back late. Got lost in north Fort Worth the next day with another officer on the way to a YMCA... it was a few miles from base, but we drove over 80 mi. During this time, my phone was stolen (I accidentally left it at a gas station while asking for directions); Dad said, "How do you know someone stole it?" Easy. I called my number, and talked to the guy, who wouldn't give me any contact information and claimed he didn't have a phone number. Right. That's why he took my phone. He said he'd take it back to the gas station. Um hum. Promptly cut off the phone. Uneventful trip back home, but somehow we managed to crush Matt's phone under the seat on the way. It still works. Good thing, because we discovered how expensive cell phones are if you buy one without a plan. While I was at work, Matt called the phone insurance place, I filed a police report, they sent me a new phone, and Matt got my phone service up and running. We decided it was the WORST WEEKEND EVER. We're glad we're both patient and still love each other. Ethan just went along for the ride.