Some background information:
1. My dad has been ill pretty much my whole life. He just got over having shingles.
2. Currently been working a lot due to a slow recovery from losing our college students to, *sigh*, college.
3. Whether or not I have a day off from work I get up at 6AM to get kiddos ready for school.
4. I typically get home from work around 10PM, and can't fall asleep till 1 AM because I wind down slowly from stress.
(I'm tired. So tired. So stressed. And also tired, and a little emotional)
So, I finally have a day off after a six day stretch at work. I muse on Facebook about how I might just finally clean my kitchen with all my free time. I get up get all three kiddos to school. As I walk back into my house at 9AM, I see the my older brother has called and left a voice mail. Before I can even respond, my mother in law tells me that I "should probably call your mother back right away." Ooooh kaaayyyy. Happy day off, Angela.
I call, my brother picks up. "Hi, I need your help with something." "Okay I'll be there in 40 minutes." (40 minutes is key here)
My first thought is: Crap, now I HAVE to put a bra on.
My second thought is: Omigodomigodomigodomigod.
As I gather my things to rush to my parents house, my mother in law says "Is everything okay? Your mother said something about a family emergency." Me: "(out loud).........I have no idea (in my head) Omigodomigodomigodomigod (but LOUDER).
So I decide to not take the highway to my parents house because traffic is still kinda dodgy at 9 in the morning, and I'd like to get there as soon as possible. So I take the back roads to my parents house. Now driving alone in silence for 40 minutes, I am thinking a lot of things. Things like This is it. This is finally it! Something happened to dad. Or maybe something happened to my younger brother. How will my children handle this? But mostly I'm thinking Omigodomigodomigodomigod!!!!!!!
So basically I'm crying from my house to my parents house. I probably look like a crazy person to the other drivers...but hey FAMILY EMERGENCY, people!
I finally compose myself, and five minutes before I get to my parents' house I text my brother while at a red light.
Me: What am I walking into?
Him: Something broke on mom and dad's car, I just need you to drive me somewhere and I'll take care of the rest.
Me: Jesus Christ.
Him: Yeah, there's oil everywhere.
Me: And by oil you don't mean blood?
Him: LOL, no.
So I get to my mom's house and see that yes, in fact there IS oil everywhere. Still kind of in panic mode, I text my brother to get the hell outside, so we can take care of the car thing, so I can get back to mom and dad since I probably have to drive someone to the hospital or something. I'm greeted with:
"You know, mom *just* finished making my breakfast when you told me to get outside." I don't need to describe the face I was making because you're probably already. And I probably don't need to tell you that I gave him a hearty Boston "Go fuck yourself." I will tell you that I, probably less than politely, told my brother that next time, just tell me about the car first.
So I relay all of my 9-9:45 AM emotions to my brother; I am greeted with "If something that bad
happened, I'd just tell you." Although, I did manage to get a "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry." out of him.
If I had but one complaint about my family is that we tend to not tell each other things because we don't want to upset them. Which I may or may not have accused them of in my brain on my drive to Boston.
So long story short, my dad is fine. The oil pan in the car had to be replaced. I also got to take a nice autumn drive down rt 9, and my mom made me potatoes O'Brien.
So what did we learn? That 40 minutes alone with your imagination can be horrible. And that your mom making you breakfast solves all your problems.
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