Who You Gonna Call?

It is a wonderful thing to have children who stand up for you. I've never wanted to be a wimp, and there was a time that I could plumb clear out a lane on the basketball court. But that was very long ago, and the ole' IB (Iron Butt, my college team nickname) done got rusty. There were decades of raising Viking children, and now I have my own team. They've matured, expanded their borders and outstripped us by a mile. That's exactly what was supposed to happen. 

This morning, I begrudgingly went to get the tires rotated, get the oil changed and wash the car. Papa Bear usually does it but has a wonky schedule and would like to save his Saturday for better things this time. When I got there to have the rotation done, some teenager-ish looking young man walked around my car and said that I needed two new tires, and that he couldn't rotate them until I bought some more. I huffed and asked for my keys back. I knew that this was baloney, but wasn't feeling much like clearing a lane today. I figured I'd let Ken deal with it, who is not a wimp. We've been married for 43 years, but he still doesn't believe me when I say that there are men who like to take advantage of women. That's because he and our menfolk do not. 

When I arrived home, one of the Norton Viking men (Daniel) pulled in behind me. He's re-constructing our workshop behind the house, as it was raided by termites some years ago. I blithely told him what had just conspired, and I saw the steam rising from his ears. He used to work at this very tire shop. After carefully checking out my tires, he said, "You might want to go inside, Mama." He whipped out his phone and walked away from me, around the corner. I heard some rapid-fire discussion and a few choice words, and then it calmed down and there was laughter. He came inside and told me which guy to take it to in the future, and also said that he was sorry, but he did say one cuss word and also exaggerated my age a bit. 

I want these people on my side.

I had a friend in the past, who had observed our family for some years. I told her that I envied her diligent, disciplined homeschooling ways. I bewailed my butterfly, windy nature and my worries about ruining our children with my sometimes flaky inconsistencies. She said, "Hush, girl. When the tsunami hits, I'm calling the Nortons."