Be careful what you comment

So, Friday we were going to take a little overnight trip to Longview and see the master's new nephew be born. He wanted me to go get an oil change for the van before we hit the road. I was reluctant. I have to be HIGHLY motivated to take all five children ANYWHERE by myself. And besides, car maintenance, in my opinion, falls squarely under the heading of "MAN RESPONSIBILITY."
"Look, you won't even have to get them out of the car, you just pull right in, they change your oil, and you pull out. It will take all of 10 minutes and will give us a big head start."
"Yes, Master" At least, that's how I remember responding...
After I picked up the kids from the bus stop I dutifully drove over to the Mojo's Oil and Lube (names have been changed to protect the NOT-SO-INNOCENT.) The two barely post pubescent boys, got under the hood, took my money, gave me a receipt, slapped the side of the van and shouted, "You're good to go, ma'm." Well, the master was right after all, this oil change business isn't so difficult to manage...
Now, earlier in the week I had commented on Kim's blog that in a large family, every little crisis becomes a big crisis, simply because of the sheer number of people involved. Unfortunately, I was about to encounter the perfect example of this not many days hence...
I hadn't gone two miles when I noticed that the van wasn't driving right. I checked my gauges--gas fine, temperature fine, battery fine, oil pressure...oil pressure...mmm...something must be wrong with my gauge...there is NO oil pressure. And then my engine seized up. I didn't even have time to get it off on the shoulder. Not that there was much of a shoulder on the ON-RAMP TO THE HIGHWAY. So it is rush hour on the on-ramp and I'm a huge sitting duck in the middle of it with my five babies in the back seat. Folks barreling up on my backside are looking to merge with traffic not the GMC Savanna dead ahead. A few idiots are honking their horns. AS IF I AM STOPPED THERE FOR MY OWN AMUSEMENT?! What is wrong with people?
We sit there for about 20 minutes (read: an eternity). My drama queen has begun to sob, "What will become of us?" It is tea time for Randy and he is screaming bloody murder...but no way am I going to unbuckle him and remove the only shred of protection for his tiny fragile skeleton. Marina is making her guttural noise and sucking her lips back to her tonsils. Ian is coming up with a game plan that would have made the master proud, "What we need to do is unbuckle and walk--or we could roll--down this hill. C'mon mom, we could make it. Well, you could carry Randy--oh, look there is a bird--and I see a werewolf--no that is a dog...." K is reading a book. I'm watching the rear view mirror so I will have a mental image of the person who starts the 15 car pile-up that I know is coming any second. I see a police officer. I flag him down. Did you ever wonder what happened to the Marlboro Man? He is working as a cop in southeast Texas. (Now the master DOES read my blog, but I can say this any way, because after it was all over, even he remarked, "That guy didn't look like your typical cop did he?" "Um, no, no, he certainly didn't." "Kinda buff--like he works out" "Uh, yeah, you could say that..." "I doubt many guys want' to take him on.." "Mmmm, well, maybe not very many GUYS....") But even if he'd had the face of Ian's werewolf, he would have seemed beautiful to me at that moment. "What seems to be the trouble, ma'm?" "I don't know officer, I just got my oil changed and my van just stopped." He checks my oil. "Well, m'am there's no oil in there." THEY DRAINED MY OIL AND DIDN'T PUT ANY OIL BACK IN MY VAN!!!! My engine is toast. Burnt toast.
He gets the police tow truck there, but we can't get off the highway, because we won't all fit in the cab of the tow truck. We wait for the master to arrive. GRRRR! On some level, I know it is not his fault; but I am tired, I am coming off of a major adrenaline rush, and I NEVER WANTED TO HAVE THE OIL CHANGED IN THE FIRST PLACE. Let's just say that directly following his arrival, Officer Hottie thought he was going to have to break up a domestic dispute. We finally get towed back to Mojo's. We have to wait there for an hour because no one has a vehicle large enough to tote all of us. Now we are without transportation because no rental places will rent you a 15 passenger van if--get this--YOU ARE GOING TO CARRY CHILDREN IN IT. Why ELSE would any one drive a vehicle the length of a city block?
See--car breaks down on the highway and needs a new engine--it's a crisis, yes. But enormous van breaks down on the highway and needs a new engine and you have no other option but to stay holed up in your house until engine is replaced because no other vehicle will carry your family--BIG crisis. So, be careful what you comment.
Stay tuned for, "Silver Lining on the Oiless Van Mishap," which I pray will be airing very soon.