Gotta Love 'Em

Nancy Sherk Photography

Hello -- hope you are enjoying your summer...I have been diligently working around the house this week to organize everything and get everything in its place so that I can enjoy the rest of my summer. Today I had a professional development, however tomorrow I fully intend on rewarding myself for a good week by laying out at the pool in my obnoxiously neon yellow bikini, and giving myself a pedicure.

Anyway, the point of this post was not to share the details of my week, rather it was to share about how it started...

So, Monday morning, I woke up, showered, dressed and readied myself for a day of crossing things off my 'to-do' list...head to work for a bit (yes, on my first day of vacay), obtain a CDL handbook from the DPS (more on that later), register for professional developments, laundry, vacuum, you know, the regular house-keeping duties. Well, I decided that I didn't want to go into work empty handed, so, I ventured off my route, and headed to Sprinkles to grab some treats to share.

As I was driving back around the 610 loop toward 288 S, I get a frantic call from my husband -- Tate: "Amy, my car is GONE"
Amy: "Uhhh, did you look for it?!"
T: "Yes, I looked for it, maybe it got towed?"
A: "Didn't you drive it to the convenience store this morning to get an energy drink? Where did you park it when you got home?"
T: "No, I walked there. My car is literally gone. (Expletive) Can you please come get me and take me up to the school, I have guys to train at 10:30?"
A: "Yea sure, I'll be there soon -- call the towing company that is posted on the gate, and see if maybe you got towed"

So -- I drive home, I pull up and Tate is walking around aimlessly through the parking lot looking for his car. And, let's be honest -- Tate's car is kind of, hmmmm, how do you put it nicely?...well, you can't --it's a jalopy, which we fondly refer to as The Jalopagus -- why would anyone want to steal his car?! However, I was still very irked and kind of like, WHAT THE HECK, how did your car get stolen between 9:00am and 10:00am BROAD DAYLIGHT, in a guarded apartment?! So, he gets in...

A: Did you call the towing company?
T: No -- they ask for your license plate #
A: And?
T: I don't know the #. I need to call and ask my dad what it is.
A: HOW do you not know your license plate #? Call your dad now, we need to figure this out!
T: Drive around the complex one time.
A: Okay (I proceed to drive around the complex)
T: Okay it's not here, just take me up to the facility.
A: Well don't you want to figure out if it got towed or if we need to file a police report?!
T: I've got to get to work.
A: HOW can you not be worried about this? I'm going to call the apartment office and see if they have towed anyone this morning.

I call the apartment office, and no, there have been no cars towed, so, they advised me to file a police report. Well, you see, with NO LICENSE PLATE NUMBER how in the heck are you to file a police report?!

A: Can you please get your license plate number, and come up with a list of things that were in your car?
T: Ugh, I know who stole it -- there was a shady looking guy in the parking lot last night and I saw him walking around with some girl this morning, I know it was him, I bet he saw the Nike bags in the back of my car and thought I had something to steal. Okay I had a med ball, some rumble rollers, and some foam rollers.
A: Can you write all of this down? I'm driving.
T: I don't have any paper, just drop me off at the facility, I will take care of it later.
A: These guys can wait -- your car was STOLEN. You need to file a police report.
T: This is my job -- if you want me to file a police report right away then you can do it, it's not that important to me. It's not like they'll ever find the car. I just need to consider it a loss.

By this time we are to the university and at the athletic facility, and I drop him off -- we are fighting because I cannot understand #1 How he doesn't know his license plate number and #2 Why he doesn't care. (FYI -- I am SO totally turning into my mother because I was FLIPPING.OUT.) I call my aunt, who ends up hanging up on me because she cannot get me to calm down. I am crying, I am irritated, and I can't understand why my husband is so nonchalant.

I call Tate's mom, and they are trying to find the license plate number in their files, and then my aunt calls me back again. It's at this time that I decide I need to calm down, head back to the apartment, do another once-over of the apartment parking lot, get all of the information together and try to file a police report. So, instead of heading to work, I veer off and exit near the apartment. As I am rounding the corner onto our street, I am still talking to my aunt:

K: Amy, you just need to calm down, and just deal with this. It'll be okay.
A: Oh my gosh Krissy, I see Tate's car, oh my gosh, let me call you back, I think I see his car.

I am sitting at the stop light and am honking my horn over and over (as if somehow that will make the light change from red to green -- yes, I am so ridiculous, not sure how that would help). I see a tow truck driver hooking the car up, and I just blow through the red light as soon as all of the cars pass (good thing Houston does not use the red light cameras anymore).

I sped into the gas station parking lot just as the driver was about to get in the truck --

A: Oh my gosh this is my husbands car! It was stolen from our apartments this morning! (Pointing through the residential fence to our complex). Oh my gosh, is anything wrong with the car?!
Tow Truck Driver: The gas station called and asked to get the car out of here, it was left at the pump

Around this time, I peer into the back of the car and see all of the Nike bags still in their place, not unzipped, or rummaged through at all, his notebooks on the front seat right where he had placed them. Everything in it's spot and it clicks. Oh my gosh, Tate must have driven the car here and walked home. What the heck am I supposed to do?!

TTD: Well, the attendant says that I need to get it out of here. It's $75 to get me to drop it.
A: I don't even know if it is drive-able, or if anything is stolen or what. If I am going to pay $75, can you at least drop it at our apartment, it is literally a 100 yard drive. Please, we have been through enough this morning!
TTD: Okay, fine.

And now is when I call Tate, halfway hysterically laughing halfway with steam coming out my ears because I can't believe how much stress it has caused me.

A: I found your car.
T: Oh my gosh, where?!
A: 3rd Ward
T: What?
A: I'm kidding. So, what did you do with your car this morning after you drove to the gas station.
T: I already told you, I walked to the gas st....oh *expletive* I must have driven it there and walked back.
A: Yeah, I guess so. Well, $75 later, your car is parked in the parking lot at our complex.
T: Please don't tell my parents.

Bahahaha, I cannot believe that this happened -- I'm more worried that Tate has absolutely no recollection of driving to the gas station than anything, however, it has made for a nice joke all week.

T: How was your day?
A: Great, how was yours, did your car get stolen?!!

Gotta love him ;-)