We had a fun ward Bbq last night. As we neared home, we needed to stop for gas. Getting ready to turn, I saw something in the road. Me:"Don't hit that!" Hubby: Never listens...thunk. We pull into the gas station. Me:"Check the tire." Hubby:"I'm sure it's fine." He gets out, looks at it and shakes his head. I go back to get whatever it was out of the road so nobody else would run over it. A window brush/ice scraper...with the scraper portion busted to pieces.
Then realized we didn't have the key to the gas. So, while hubby worked on the tire, I jogged home with B, D and E in the dark...(I am so out-of-shape, but it felt good, 'cept for my shins).
Halfway home I realized I could drive hubby's car back, not jog...duh!!!
I'm just grateful that we have a full-size spare. I'll just have an ugly tire for awhile.
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