It doesn't even have a name

I can't.

I'm too hot.

We have been at the beach for weeks. It's been awesome and breath taking to spend this kind of time with my three children and no. one. else.

In reality, it was really nice. I was a bit of a fool to think it would be a piece of cake, but we got into a rhythm soon enough.

On the way home, Bennie found a box of 250 envelopes and opened the lid. This wouldn't have been a big deal, sans one small detail.

Minor really.

My air conditioning went out in my car.

Let's back up.

Husband has been bugging me for months that I need a new car. MONTHS. "It's fine. It'll do until we debt down the student loans. I love my car."

And the truth is, I really do love my car. It's ten years old but it has everything I need-- DVD player, leather seats, XM radio... ya know, the necessities. But, the big thing is this: IT IS PAID FOR.

Which is mostly why I love it the very, very best.

Back to the moment:

Bennie opened a box of 500 envelopes. She was bored. And hot. Mostly hot. Those envelopes took off in a whirlwind of paper and flaps through the car, pouring out all windows into the 88MPH wind, hitting cars behind me- of that, I am certain. A semi pulled up next to me, laid on the horn and shook his fist. All I could do was look at him as I was driving, holding a box of envelopes, closing the windows and {ever so politely} asking my second in command, Birdie, to put down her ice cold drink to help me.

She had to take a sip first.

I wasn't so polite after that.

Sometime thereafter, Fuzzy fell asleep, those red cheeks jiggling in the wind. Bennie cried. Birdie put her head on a turkey sandwich and kept opening the cooler to cool off.

I dropped the hammer.

It was around this point that the temperature outside crested 100 degrees and I was realizing what a stupid idea this was. Stupid and very, very foolish. I reached my hand around to see how Fuzzy was feeling, fearful that he would be cold and clammy.

Nope. He was wet and saturated... with puke and sweat.

Gross.

I called Husband and said, "Fuzzy just threw up. Do I need to take him to the emergency room?"

"No- you need to take them McDonalds or Chick Fil A and cool off for a while."

Next exit- I am off the road, making three wrong turns before I pull into a McDonald's... passing an Arby's, Hardee's, Waffle House, and probably a free hotel with the thermostat set at 64 degrees. But, Husband didn't say stop there. He said McDonald's or Chick Fil A.

Because that's how my mind was working in that moment.

Three children walk into McDonald's with only one wearing a pair of shoes and two wearing actual clothes. Fuzzy.... he was naked, sans the puke. And, let's take it one step further:

We were stinky.

Not like "we've been exercising in a beautiful park somewhere and I have nailed being MOTY" .... rather... it was much more "we've been on I-20 and smell like asphalt on a hot July day" ... that kind of stinky.

I ordered four large drinks and four cookies.

The lady behind the register looked at me with pitiful eyes.

"Do the kids want a toy?"

Let me say that a different way: The cashier at McDonald's felt sorry for the doctor's wife with the DVD player in her car who was on her way home from a month long vacation.

The cashier who probably makes $3.17 felt sorry for me and my children.

"Do the kids want a toy?"

"Ummm... yes. YES! They would love a toy! Can you throw in some free fries, too?"

-- don't worry, I didn't ask for the free fries. I was already embarrassed enough.

I post something on Facebook and a friend almost immediately said, "I think you just described hell."

A lot of people liked that comment. It was funny. I laughed. I bet a lot of people laughed, too. Turns out, I would learn-- that I was not describing hell.

Hell was getting back in the car with another hour to go.

That was hell.

Before we left McDonald's, with our four XL Powerades and tons of ice, I brought it in for a pep talk.

"Guys-- this is gonna suck. I can't sugar coat it. But, we are all in this together. Let's suck it up. Crank the music and get home! Once we are home, I promise there will be air conditioning, lots of TV, and pizza for supper. Bring it in. Bring it in.... put your hand on top of mine. Bennie, put your hand on hers- no, not on your new toy, on your sister's hand. Fuzzy, you jus-- yeah, you just sit there."

ONE

TWO

THREE

GO TEAM anddddd BREAK!

Morale was down, but the music was up. Somewhere between Snoop Dogg and Billie Jean at maximum volume with me fist pumping the whole way, my children would learn that their mother could drop it into a new gear of crazy.

We kept saying that I would drive this car until the wheels fell off. Turns out, I would, in fact, drive it until the wheels fell off. I would buy new wheels and keep driving it. But, once the A/C went out-- ohhhh, yeah- I'm done. Pack that baby up and call it good.

Game. Set. Match

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