I am a hopeless "on the upside-er." I can almost always find some obscure positive in a negative (true calamities, unfortunately, make me want to smack myself with the horrifying positives I find.).
Today, I'm giving myself highlights in my hair. It's with one of those caps that you pull the strands through. I got it all set up, pulled through, and so on, and got the gloves on. (Rather I put on ONE glove. I never seem to put on both at once.)
Then I mixed the little envelope of highlight powder (read: Clorox, I think), mixed it with the little bottle of activator, and added in the little squeezy tube of "hair protector," which is probably just glue.
Mixmixmix. Spread it all on my hair (the stuff sticking out of the cap). THEN. Then? I happened to glance over on the counter. THERE WAS ANOTHER PACKET OF BLEACH POWDER.
So I added a few drops of water to the bottle of activator and shook it to death, and poured the leftovers into the little mixing bowl thingy, and squoze the little tube to get any remaining driplets of that out, and added the extra packet of powder. Stirstirstir. Swear to self. Stir.
Then, with the OTHER glove, grab random handsful of the mixture, which is suspiciously doughy and dry, and smear it into and (hopefully) let it meld with the OTHER gloop on my hair.
As I stood there in the bathroom, willing my hair to not turn orange and/or fall out, I thought, "Well, on the upside, I have TONS of hair. If it all falls out, my hair will be so much less DENSE and will dry faster!"
Child #1 was in 1st grade, and Child #2 was in preschool. Got Allie to the bus for school, and took Simon to preschool. Dr. Smartypantz took the minivan to the airport to go to Iceland for a conference. It's January in Michigan.
Got back home, did things around the house. All is well!
Looked up, and realized that it's time to go get Simon from preschool, 5 miles away.
Car will not start.
New to town. Know no one.
Too late to call a cab.
Do I panic? NO! I figure, call Allie's school. Inform them of my issue, and ask the wonderful teacher who lives down the street to please keep Allie with her, and then drive her home and keep her until I arrive back home. Sure, no problem.
THEN. Call the preschool. Inform them of the quandry. Ask if Simon can stick around with them for 20 minutes or so while I make my way over there. Sure, no problem.
Go to garage. Get out wrench to attach bike-trailer to 10-speed. Throw a few blankets in the trailer, since it's roughly 0 degrees F out. Child chills easily. Add one more blanket.
Get on bike to ride over to the preschool 5 miles away. Tire. Is flat. PANIC? NO!!
Walk/run bike and trailer over to the gas station 1/2 mile away (on the way to the preschool, thankfully), and try to get air.
Did not bring purse. Need quarter. Panic? NO! Search ground for dropped coin, when the gas station attendant takes pity and manually turns on the air for me. WOOT!
Ride bike to preschool. Forgot gloves.
Sweater sleeves, when pulled down far enough, can be like mittens.
Did not realize it was actually uphill for much of the drive.
Preschool calls cell. "Where are you?"
"I'm (puffpuffpuff) ON THE WAY!"
Child sounds worried in background.
Get nearly to preschool, when Teacher Down the Street calls. "I'll come there and pick you up. It's insane for you to be riding a bike in this weather. And it's going to start snowing any time."
YAAAY for Teacher Down the Street!
Get to preschool. Realize I've sweated entirely through the back of my thick down-filled jacket. Ew. It's all wet now.
Simon is fine, but disappointed that he doesn't get to ride in the trailer in the snow.
Teacher gets there. We realize that the bike/trailer will not fit in her car.
I leave the bike and trailer inside the school entrance, willing to take my chances. Leave a "please don't steal my bike, since it would really make a bad day worse" sign on the bike.
Look down. Realize that bike tire is flat again.
Go home. Call garage and ask them to come tow the car. Pour a drink.
"But on the upside, IT COULD HAVE RAINED!"
[Edit: My darling brother pointed out that this makes me look rather Pollyanna-ish. And it's true. Until you read my NEXT post (which hasn't been written yet) about the evil OTHER side of this phenomenon.]