Sorry, Conoco

Yesterday was a rather long and stressful day, which followed a very long and stressful Friday (except for watching Lost, which we enjoyed). Today, while long, is (so far) much better. More on all of that in another post, I'm sure.

But, Blake said the following story would be a good one for the blog. If it was me, I'm not sure I'd publish it . . . but since it was his blunder, I'm ok with it. We're driving across the state, and after missing an important turn we add about an hour to our night-time journey. We stop in California, Missouri (which anyone from this area knows should not have been on our route) to get gas. Being a mother, I now think to say things like "Do you need to go to the bathroom before we go on?" I say this to him as he is filling the car, and rather than finishing what he's doing, he just walks into the gas station to use the restroom. With the gas still pumping. My wheelchair is in the trunk, so I'm just watching the pump, hoping it doesn't malfunction and keep pumping indefinitely, spilling gas all over and blowing us up, with me and James stuck in the car unable to do anything about it. As you can see, my mind generally goes straight to the worst possible conclusion. Of course, that didn't happen. The pump shut off when the tank was full and I let my mind wander to other, less life-threatening topics. Blake returns, gets in the car, and starts to drive off. That's when we hear a strange noise. Careful readers may notice that I didn't mention him taking the pump out of the car. So, as he drove off, it pulled the hose off of the machine. Blake and the girl working there tried to reattach it, with no luck, but at least gas wasn't coming out of it. The people at the California Conoco were very nice about it and didn't even take down Blake's information to later sue.

We eventually made it home safely and all is well.