Damn You, Murphy

Apparently the excitement of my impending trip is turning my brain to mush. As succinctly as possible...

Three cars, three sets of tires -- mine (Prius), the kid's (Corolla), my mother's (Chev).  I had my winter tires changed last week.  Today we were taking care of the Corolla and the Chev.  Dropped the Chev off, returned an hour later. Oops, wrong tires in the car.  Okay, we obviously put them in the Corolla. Leave the tires that were in the Corolla.  Go home.  Call my mother to tell her about the mix up, that her car won't be ready for a couple of hours and I would pick her up to take her to her dialysis.  Out to the garage with labels I will put on the piles of tires to avoid doing this again.  I have the Prius sign to put on my pile and -- SHIT SHIT SHIT!!  It clearly says CHEV on the top bag. Apparently I labelled the bags last year to avoid the very thing that is now happening.  But which means I have again supplied them with the wrong tires. Load up the tires in the Corolla and head back to the tire shop.  Drop them off and pick up the other tires, which were my winter tires.  Pick up my mother and deliver her to her clinic.  Home again.  Get the call, the Chev is ready.  Pick up the Chev, leave the Corolla, head home to drop off the tires before taking the Chev to the clinic to leave for my mother.  Cell phone rings.  Kid answers.  It's the tire shop.  They put the Corolla tires in the Chev.  Back to the tire shop. Drop off the Corolla tires.  Pick up the Chev tires.  Tire guy informs me that the winter tires for the Corolla are shot and she won't get another year out of them. Onto the discard pile they go.  Drive to the clinic, drop off the Chev, put the Chev tires in the Corolla to take home.  Where now there are only two piles of tires.  Two clearly marked piles of tires.

This whole tire changing process should have been done by noon.  It's now after 4:00.  Think the day ends there? Think again.

Poor dog has been stuck inside all day while we ran back and forth like the proverbial headless chickens so it's time for a nice relaxing walk.  Up the hill on the trails so he can go off leash.  The very same walk I do with him every morning.  And during which I always think, just don't hurt yourself chasing through the woods because I'd never be able to pack your 65 lb body back down.  After one particularly long foray into the brush he reappeared panting and plodding -- and bleeding from a front paw.  The kid sacrificed a sock and her hair elastic to cover his foot and we slowly made our way back down and home.  Please don't be serious, please don't be serious.  A cut to the large pad.  Not deep, but the bleeding won't stop with the pressure of him standing on it.  I clean it and wrap it.  Fingers crossed that come morning I won't be making a last minute trip to the vet.

As for Murphy, he better not be showing his face around here tomorrow.

Because I'm rapidly running out of "last minutes."

Book Review:  Because I enjoyed his first book so much, I picked up The Guise of Another by Allen Eskens.  Another quick read, not as compelling as the first, but still a decent little mystery that has series potential with the character of Det. Max Rupert who also appeared in the first. I'd read another.