Not that there’s ever a good time, but the “low tire pressure” light came on in our minivan at a particularly inconvenient time.
It was a chilly, overcast Saturday morning in early October, the kind of morning that makes you want to pour another cup of coffee and curl up on the couch with a good book.
Unless, of course, you have children, in which case you have to get your little Girl Scout out the door by 8:30 AM so that she can meet up with the rest of her troop for a morning hike.
As I ushered the Girl Scout and her little sister (who wanted to come along for the ride) into the minivan that morning, I was feeling pretty good about myself: Not yet 8:30, and my entire family was dressed, breakfasted, and brushed up. The dog had been walked, and the poultry were fed.
Then the “low tire pressure” light came on.
I drove my daughter to her hike anyway, of course, because I’d rather be on time on three tires than late on four.
We took the car to the mechanic later that morning. A few hours later, my husband gave me the report: Two porcupine quills.
I cannot imagine how I ended up with two porcupine quills in my tire. I’m fairly sure I didn’t run over an entire porcupine, so there must have been a few spare quills lying on the road somewhere; this is Vermont.
Isn’t it amazing how a couple of small, sharp things can take down a massive, powerful vehicle?
I’m not just talking about porcupine quills; I’m also talking about flu shots.