We live in Texas. It’s July. And it’s H-O-T! We’re talking 100+ degrees daily – and even at 9:00 pm, you can still expect at least 95 degrees. Top that with being pregnant. You have MISERY.
I have this bad habit. I can’t stand to put gas in my car. The smell and the process I find tedious in this heat. So a few months ago when we got a new car that has a nice little countdown of how many miles I have left in my tank, I thought – SWELL!
This past Friday we were picking up the kids. Running right into 6pm which I hate on a Friday, but work had run late and this and that. We are about 3/4 a mile out and my car’s messaging system says “Powering Down” or something to that effect. WHAT? OH.. Those shiny dings and lights that had been going off for the previous 20 miles, could that mean I am running out of gas? No worries – as I continue to drive the power steering goes, no gas can be pumped from the gas pedal and my husband is freaking. “Don’t hit the brake!”
Before I know it, he has jumped outside of our car that was going 20 MPH, running behind it pushing it on a major street. He proceeded to do so — in 105 DEGREE weather for half a mile. By the grace of God the lights worked in our favor and up a hill, we made it to a gas station.
My husband proceeded to have an asthma attack. My sister went to get the kids. I laughed because if I didn’t I’d cry. Lord knows this preggo does not need anymore crying.
Lesson learned. I, Molly will never ever let my tank go empty again.
Amazingly this man is still married to me.