July 21

You know how something that's entirely not funny can become funny in an ironic sort of way if it happens over and over again? 

That's how I feel about screws in my tires.

My car had been telling me for a few days that the air pressure in my rear passenger tire was low, so I (well, Adam, because I can't seem to get air compressors to work correctly) dutifully re-inflated it to an acceptable volume at the gas station every few days. At some point, I scraped up against a curb so I assumed that was the issue, but no: a cursory inspection of said-tire revealed this little darling embedded in the tread this afternoon.

Here's the funny-not-funny part: it's either the fourth or fifth time it's happened in the last six months. I have no clue how I've managed to run over that many screws --because they're always screws-- but at least this time, it was patch-able. (And a big thank you to my hunny for taking it over to Costco to have that done this evening.)

I could get annoyed and part of me certainly is annoyed. (And confused. Because seriously, who repeatedly runs over screws? Why are they so drawn to my tires?) But I'm also grateful. I'm grateful that it was fixable this time and that nothing bad happened as I drove around waiting to have it repaired. And I'm grateful that I can find the humor in the ridiculousness of the reality.