I Told You So

This one is for my husband. I know I will never hear the end of it.

There are many lessons learned in life. Some hard, some not. This particular lesson I learned was definitely a hard one. My father tried to teach this lesson to me, and after I got married, my husband has tried to teach me.

Never let your gas tank get below 1/4 of a tank of gas. Sounds simple enough. The reasons are numerous as to why this is good practice. I experienced a few of these reasons while learning my hard lesson.

My day started out with almost 1/2 tank of gas. I went to lunch with a friend who works about 30 minutes away. After lunch I had to drive another 30 minutes to pick up another friend at school whose car had broke down. It was about this time that I felt the slight grumble in my stomach from lunch. No big deal, yet. We then drove to pick up her daughter from school and took them home.

By this time my gas tank is inching toward E and my stomach is slightly more angry at me for all the pizza I had at lunch.

My friend lives about 20 minutes from me. To get home from her house I have to drive through one of the worst neighborhoods in Memphis. She lives in a nice area of Memphis, but it is one of those places where if you go a mile or two in a particular direction you are in a place you don't want to be.

I know you are wondering why I don't stop and get gas when I am in a good neighborhood and my stomach is not so bad. Well, I am cheap, and an optimist. The gas is much more expensive in her neighborhood, and I think I can make it.

I am driving home and I know I won't be able to stop for gas for a little while and my stomach is hurting like hell now. I am in quite a dilemma. One, I don't want to stop in this neighborhood to get gas. Two, I don't want to run out of gas in this neighborhood. Three, I don't know if I can get out of the van to pump the gas now that I have to go to the bathroom so very badly. Four, if I run out of gas, I have to call my husband and tell him.

A quick side note: number four is very bad since I ran out of gas with him in my van not so long ago. There was walking, 100 degree heat, cussing,......very bad. I swore I would never let my tank get that low again. I will, in my own defense, say that was the first time I have ever run out of gas in my 15 year driving history. He was not impressed by this accomplishment in the least at the time.

I choose to ride it out until I get to Southaven, praying silently that we make it, and then when we do, I can get gas without having an accident.

We do make it to Southaven and I am able to get gas without a scene. After the gas station, I start a lecture to my two and four year old.

"Now listen guys. Mommy has to go to the potty very, very badly. Sarah, when we get onto our street I want you to unbuckle Colin. Colin, when we get home, I want you and Sarah to immediately follow me to the door and into the house. I don't want to have to ask you five times.

We get to our driveway and I'm like a drill sergeant. "Get out of the van! MOVE IT, MOVE IT!! Faster guys, faster!" They run as fast as their little legs can go. God bless them. We made it with no casualties.