Oh what a fuckin' weekend I had. Here it is Monday and I still haven't recovered from it.

As you well know, the wife is going to grooming school this month, for the entire month. Well, we took her to Tampa on Saturday. Since our car is, basically, a box of shit on wheels, I talked to my company's marketing person and she set up a rental car for me for the day. The wife packed everything she figured she'd need on Friday night and, after picking up the car Saturday morning, we headed out toward Tampa around noon. That was our first mistake.

It wasn't until we were on the road that I looked at the directions from Yahoo and realized that the trip was going to be at least 4 hours and here we were not getting started until after noon. That meant that it would be at least 4:00 before we got into Tampa and then it would take us about an hour to get her groceries and things. That meant that we were leaving Tampa around 5-5:30 and that meant we wouldn't get home until around 10:00. Kind of a rough day, specially with the kids with me, but I figured we could handle it. Oh yeah, you read right. We also had the kids with us.

First off, the wife's mother never really said anything about watching them and the wife never really mentioned it to her, so when she asked if the wife's sister was watching them while we went to Tampa, I figured, fuck it...we'd be better off taking them with us. Plus, we thought that my mother-in-law might have gotten a new job and that she'd be working anyway. So, we loaded the kids into the grey Ford Escort, grabbed a few snack things and headed on our way.

Our second problem was decided which directions to use. The wife had printed out directions from Yahoo! Maps and Mapquest, but she had also received directions in an e-mail from Petsmart. Which to use? Well, I decided to use the Yahoo directions because they had a handy little map with them and started from our house. The Petsmart directions just get, "Take I-75 North". Anyway, we're heading across the state on I-75 when I decide to hit a rest stop. We're only 43 miles into a 250+ mile trip, but I had my reasons. First, I wanted something to drink. Second, we needed to take the kids to the bathroom to make sure they were "dry" for the trip, and third, the wife had started her time-o-the-month and needed to change her tampons. Things were going good until I saw the map in the rest area and saw the "you are here" mark. It wasn't anywhere near where I thought it should be and I realized that we weren't making good time at all. Time to shake 'em and bake 'em. I grabbed my Diet Coke, we chased down Icebear Jr. who was getting a major kick out of how his voice echoed inside the building and headed to the car. Back on the road we went.

The next hour and a half or so went rather well. We fielded endless questions from MonkeyBoy who wanted to know what every little thing was on the road, in the car, in the sky...you name it. Icebear Jr., thankfully enough, was asleep. We were about 25 miles from Ft. Myers, on I-75, when we heard a kind of a "pong" noise. I thought something had hit the car, maybe underneath. Then, immedialtely, a loud rumble filled the car. I about shit my pants because I thought something had let loose in the engine. The car was steering fine, it wasn't lurching or bumpy or anything as I pulled over. As I opened the door to get out and look under the hood, I looked back and saw that the left rear tire was flat. Shit! We'd had a blowout. Fan-fuckin-tastic. I popped the trunk and the wife started digging her luggage out and setting it aside. Uncovering the spare, my hopes sunk as I looked at the tiny little donut in the trunk. Great, we can't make it to Tampa on that. After digging out the jack and the various tools to work the jack and take off the tire, I tell the wife to get our rental agreement out so I can call the place that I rented it. Luckily, right there on the agreement was the 800 number for their 24/7 roadside assitance service. I climbed in the car, called them on my new Motorola cell phone and explained our situation. The woman on the other end was extremely polite and helpful and asked me 2 or 3 times if we were in a safe place and were ok. There was light at the end of this tunnel and, for once, it wasn't an oncoming train.

She explained to me that all we had to do was change the tire, drive to Naples, which we were close to, take it to the Budget there and they'd replace the donut with a regular tire. Cool. I can do that. Since we'd already lost time on this trip, I set a new roadside record for changing a tire. I swear I had the flat off, the donut on and the car back down in under 5 minutes. And, typical, just as I'm finishing up on the last lug nut, a county Sheriff pulls up to see if we need help. Well, while the wife and I pack everything back in the car, he chats with the kids and keeps them busy. With everything put away, we pile back in the car and I phone up the Budget shop in Naples. Well, turns out that they can't replace the tire. They're in some kind of shopping plaza and can't do maintenance on their car. If a car needs work, they take it out of service, send it to their corporate headquarters at the Ft. Myers airport, about 15-20 minutes away, and have it fixed. The guy tells me that, instead, they'll just exchange our car. But, they can't do that either. Turns out that the Budget we got the car from is not part of the corporate network or something, I couldn't quite understand it. Anyway, we end up driving about 18 miles to the Ft. Myers airport where they have another car waiting for us. A nice little Ford Focus, actually a step up from the Escort we had. Another 20 minutes getting the car checked in, taking our shit out and getting the paperwork done for the new car and we were on the road again. All in all, we lost about 45 minutes from the trip. Now, on to Tampa.

Fortunately, the rest of the trip was uneventful and we got into Tampa about 5:15-5:30. Now, just to find the fuckin' hotel where she was staying. The directions from Petsmart come in handy here. Unfortunately, today I was wearing my "I'm a complete fuckin' idiot shorts". We turn off of the road listed in the directions and the hotel is supposed to be immediately on the right. Well, we missed the fucker and went about 5 miles out of the way before we decided to turn around and head back. Turns out that it was right where we were the first time. We pulled into the parking lot about 5:55 and got the wife checked in. Short trip to the grocery store and we had her set up for at least a week, and then it was time to go. And of course, she cried. Then MonkeyBoy cried when he saw her cry. And this caused her to cry even more. Meanwhile, Icebear Jr. hasn't a fuckin' clue what's going on and is running rampant all over her room, jumping on the bed, stickin' his head in the toilet, hitting the fridge and basically trying to destroy the place. After finally getting them loaded into the car, we head home...around 7:15. This is going to be fun.

Well, like I said, I had my "fuckin' idiot shorts" and also the matching "complete fuckin' moron shirt, shoes and hat" because I missed the fuckin' turn to get on the interstate. The sad part? It's right next to the fuckin' hotel! And I drove right by it. Well, it took about 5 minutes to get turned around and headed out. Thankfully, Icebear Jr. dropped right off and slept. I just had to deal with MonkeyBoy and his fascination with the switches on his side of the car. While I'm driving down the road, all I can hear is the *thunk* *thunk* as the automatic door locks are locked, unlocked, locked, unlocked...you get the idea. After getting him off the locks, he goes to the automatic window. Up, down, up, down, up...and so on. I had to threaten to put him in the fuckin' trunk (which was fuckin' huge by the way). We stopped at 8:00 at a McDonald's for a bite to eat and then headed out. We finally got back home around 12:30. One hell of a long day. After fishing the kids out of the car, I was too beat to do anything but lay down in bed with them and pass out.

But, we got the wife up there safe and sound and she's doing good. She's already had her first class and has met her fellow classmates and made some friends. That's a good thing. It will make the time away more bearable for her.

Well, I'm still trying to recover from this weekend so I'm going to stop now. I'll catch you all later.

Da 'Bear

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