Hello, My Name is Rebekah.....

...and I’m a bad driver. Just one of those little things you didn’t necessarily know about me. Oh yes. It was one of those days.

Confession time: I have a problem with curbs. If the battle is mostly won by admitting I have a problem, well, I’m admitting it. We have had this van for five years (I think?). You would think that I would have figured out how wide it is by now, wouldn’t you? Well, you would be mistaken to think so. Apparently I have yet to meet a curb I don’t love to ram my right tires over. And if you’re going too fast when you hit a high enough curb, it will give you a flat tire. Or two. Yes, ma’am. I know of what I speak.

So, today I met my husband for lunch and then he said that since I was dropping him off at work why not come on in and get my military ID updated since mine has been expired since January. Short aside, you have to go through a lot of security to get into his building. My jacket set off the metal detector, and Boo took off down the hall while they were scanning me to find out why I set it off. Good thing Drew was with us, in fact had to be with us since we civilian unauthorized people are not allowed to be unescorted anywhere in the building. Quite a change from his hospital days. Oh, and it took, like, forever, to get this ID taken care of. Drew leaned over while we were waiting and said, “There are 8 people working in this office, most of whom are standing over there talking to each other…..and only one can take the pictures?” Sigh. That’s the fun part of Army life. Hurry up and wait……..

Anyway, that had absolutely nothing to do with my story. It’s been a long dry spell writing-wise, bear with me, please. Anywho, I was driving home when I encounted a curb I have managed to drive past uneventfully for all these months of living here. Today, apparently, I needed to show the curb what I’m made of and rammed it good. The bump and immediate roar of the flat tire was disheartening. To say the least. Oh, and it's cold again today. Really cold.

Quite grateful that I had at least made it off the main road and was now on a somewhat less traffic infested road when I decided to make my driving error, I pulled out my cell phone and called Drew. “You’re going to kill me,” I began, which made him panic and wonder if I was okay. I assured him I was fine, didn’t mean to worry him like that, but I needed help. He came right away. I’m so thankful for my man. He assured me I wasn’t stupid and needed to quit apologizing, he was just glad it wasn’t an accident, when I kept berating my propensity toward driver’s curbside errors. I’m really, really glad he was home this time. The other times I have evidenced this particular quirk he has been deployed somewhere far away. That seems to be when I err the most often.

And another thing, the tire place had my tires in stock and can finish it tonight. When we lived “on the island” that was never the case. They always had to order my tires and it would take a day or two before I got my longsuffering van back.

And I think it’s pretty sad that I know that.