Did you read the awesome title? No, could you repeat it. That is not exactly what happened. Like always, I have a story, that is less than exciting.
This weekend we went to Baltimore to visit the Soprano and the kids. She sang in an opera that we went to see. It was different. The singing was fantastic, but the story could have used a little help. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Anyway, when we returned to the car, I began pulling out of our parking space. We heard a flapping sound that I recognized immediately. For anyone that has driven a car with a flat tire, you know the sound. There is no mistaking that sound.
The next day we took the tire to Mr. Tire in Baltimore and had it repaired. Mamma asked the customer service representative if they could tell what happened to the tire. He went into the back and comes back out with something very small pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. As he walks closer to us, I squint to try and see what it is that has punctured our tire. It was a staple. HA! The roads of Baltimore are so filled with holes that they look like they were in a war zone. We didn’t blowout the tire on one of the bomb craters in the roads of Baltimore. It wasn’t a nail that somehow happened to flip up in the proper direction to puncture the tire. No, it was a staple. HA HA HA HA HA!
My story is not we had a blowout going 100 MPH through flaming rings. The car was spinning out of control. I took control of car and saved the lives of everyone. The tire feel off the car. I had to change the tire on the side of the road with cars flying by. His sweat covered pecks glowed in the light of moon. What really happened was, somewhere on the way to the opera, we ran over a staple. During the opera, the tire leaked out. I pulled out of the parking space, heard the infamous sound, stopped the car, rolled up my sleeves, and swapped the tire with the spare donut.