The truck cont.

I went to work, stopping at the door to tell the man to get the truck towed and put it on the credit card. He texted me at 10am and said a hose had blown and it was a 4 min. fix. This sounds like he fixed it, right? WRONG.

Got home, noticed there was no truck in the driveway, and then discovered that I was locked out of the house. Someone had played with the door knob lock, and I only have keys for the dead bolt. So I went around back (which I don’t have a key for because of Reasons) and did some laundry and helped myself to the kegerator, using a mason jar full of pens in my studio (minus the pens). Found where the chickens were laying eggs in the basement, had a toast with them. We haven’t actually named the two youngest chickens, we just call them collectively “the chickadoos”. Plucky came down, sang the egg song, the chickadoo felt better about this horrible thing that had come out of her, and the chickens all walked off together under the house, feeling very sisterly. I refilled my mason jar. I had had about 1.5 mason jars of very strong beer when the boys got home from swim lessons to shove Leif through the bedroom window and open the doors. Mike said, “So... well. Yeah. The truck is gone.”

THE TRUCK IS GONE. I told him to tow it, I told him it would be set on fire or stolen, I told him it would be impounded. And it is gone. And he has been at swim lessons. So I started laughing. “Call the cops and ask where they impound vehicles,” I said, and went to sit on the porch bench and watch Gilmore Girls with the rest of my mason jar of beer. Zenny went running by, “I have the eggs!” and fell down with them.

So Mike drove off in my mom’s car to file police reports or pay ransoms, and I am eating chocolate to absorb the beer so I can meet my mom for the traditional Thai food dinner on the night before Gavin’s actual birthday.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.

Update:

Truck was located. We went on a very exciting trip to an impound lot way out in the industrial district, where I interrogated the poor man at the desk about what exactly the big sign detailing firms for “water recoveries” might involve. Lots of drunk people driving into rivers, evidently.

The truck has suffered a fatal explosion to its insides and it probably dead forever. We have made arrangements and gone out for Thai food.

I’m not feeling depressed anymore! Adding “tow truck driver” to my future career change options.