Mom stopped by this afternoon. She pulled up and blew her horn. I walked out to see the most worried looking face on the other side of that Honda's driver's side window.
"You're daddy's gonna kill me," she told me rolling down the window. "I think I busted a tire."
I walked around the car expecting a flat of gargantuan proportions. Mom has been known to have relationships with curbs from time to time. The tire was just low so I walked inside and put a little soapy water in a Solo cup. I walked back out and poured it all over the tire. I could see from the bubbles forming that is was just a nail and not anything serious. No new tire needed.
"Take it to West Point Tire," I told her. "Tell them you have a nail and they will fix it for only $10"
"Really?" mom said as she smiled and sat back down in her car. "That's all it's going to cost?"
"Yeap," I said as I grinned and waved her off.
She was worried my father was going to get irate if she busted another tire. It happens often. I love my mom. I really do. She is just full of personality, and also car mishaps. I won't tell you how many times she's shut the garage door on her trunk.