Raining and Pouring

It’s been a day here at the House of Peevish. When it rains, proverbially speaking, it pours.

It started off fine enough. This morning Stinkerbelle had to go to the doctor, so I was up early and caffeinated as much as possible. She ate a good breakfast, pooped right on schedule (hooray for regularity!) so I could get a diaper change done BEFORE we left, and didn’t mind being bundled up to go out into the minus Holy Crap morning we were having.

I had to go out to the car-shaped pile of snow in the driveway and tunnel in to find my little vehicle. It took a lot of clearing off, but it started up without complaint, and I let it warm up while I got Stinkerbelle ready to go. And once it was nice and warm, I got her settled and off we went.

The drive to Stinkerbelle’s doctor’s office is maybe a kilometer or two away. It’s literally around the corner. (And down the street a ways. And around another corner. Whatever. It’s close.) She was shouting then entire time, probably at whatever she saw out the back window — “Hello, my peeps! It is I! Your QUEEN!” — or whatever it is that babies that age shout about. Anyway, she was in good form.

And despite being hot and wrapped in about 60 pounds of fleece, she remained cheerful at the doctor. She chatted to staff and visitors alike; she does not discriminate. She was happy and burbling at the nurse and the doctor… UNTIL THEY STUCK THOSE POINTY THINGS IN HER LEGS.

OH, the humanity.

First was the look of surprise and shock, followed quickly by a look of abject sorrow and betrayal. The big tears came to her eyes. The wailing began, followed by the pleading “ma-ma-ma-ma-ma”s. It seemed like an eternity until I could pick her up and comfort her.

I admit it. I cried a little, too. It’s always harder on the parents than the child.

But she cheered up presently, and I got her dressed and packed into the car again to leave. She was tired, and probably a little uncomfortable from her shots, so I shelved the proposed grocery shopping trip, and took her home for a bottle, and a snuggle, and a nap instead.

On the way home, we pulled up to a red light. I normally drive pretty slowly with Her Babyness in the car. So I braked to stop at the light. And as I came to a stop, I felt the brakes get kind of… SOFT… under my foot. My foot on the pedal went all the way to the floor. I thought, “Hm. That’s odd”, but when the light changed, I proceeded on towards home.

I didn’t have to brake again until the stop sign on our street. Again, the brakes felt really soft, and the car was slow to stop. It was almost as though I was sliding on snow, although I wasn’t. At least, I don’t think so. I pulled into the driveway, stopped the car, and got us unloaded and into the house.

After a nap and some lunch, Stinkerbelle was pretty cheerful, so I decided to go for groceries. Once again, I got her bundled up, I warmed up the car, and packed her in. I sat down in the driver’s seat, and noticed the brake light was on. The HAND brake light. Now, for all I know, that’s the only brake light my car has. But it was on.

Only my hand brake? I NEVER use it. It wasn’t on. It almost never is.

But I thought, “Meh. You’re an old car. I’ll humour you.” I grabbed the car’s manual and it was, as ever, very vague. It basically said something to the effect that “ooh, your hand brake is on. Or there’s something wrong with your brakes in general. Have a nice day.”

So I pulled the hand brake. I let it down.

The light stayed on.

I pulled the hand brake again. I let it down again. Light still on. I did this a couple of times. Still making with the Lighty McWarninglight.

So then I thought, “Screw you, you silly warning light. My parking brake is not on. And my baby is getting all shouty back there. I am going grocery shopping. So there.”

Which was the wrong thing to say. Because the brakes totally went, “Oh YEAH? Take THIS.” And my foot went right to the floor. I tried backing out and braking and it was like I was slipping on the snow again.

So I took the brake light seriously. It appeared I had no brakes.

I pulled back up the driveway, put it in park, and unpacked the increasingly impatient baby.

I called BDH, since I know nothing about cars, and he effectively grounded me. Which means, I am grounded INDEFINITELY, because we have negative money right now. So fixing the brakes right now is NOT an option.

It’s just as well, I guess. I settled in for the afternoon with a baby who was starting to feel the effects of her shots, and is clingy and nappish. There are worse ways to pass an afternoon than cuddling with your beloved baby, I guess.

But it would have been SO much better with some veggies and dip to snack on. Which we don’t have, because of a lack of groceries.

Damn that brake light! No lovely fresh veggies! Although I’m so peevish, I could forsake the healthy eating plan and totally eat a fistful of cookies.

When it rains, it pours.

2 thoughts on “Raining and Pouring

  1. Oh, go on, eat the cookies. It counts as stress reduction, and stress is bad for your heart and all.

    (Why yes, I CAN justify almost anything, especially when it involves food.)

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