I wouldn't be posting at all today under normal circumstances. After all, Saturday is supposed to be a day of family fun, right? Our plans for the day weren't exactly fun, but we were looking forward to a relaxing day, at least.
Fat chance of that now.
Last night, my husband got home from work a little after 11PM. We planned to have a couple of drinks, maybe watch a few stupid videos, maybe play a board game. Husband was taking a quick bath to clean up when there was a frantic knock on the door. And guess what? It was a nice neighbor lady informing us that our car was on fire.
I can't make this up. Well, maybe I can, but if I'd read the plot of how this went down in a story, I might have thought the plot seemed contrived. Clearly, I would have been wrong.
When the lady said our car was on fire, it took a moment for that information to sink in. I mean, WHAT? Then I looked over, and yes, the car my husband had just driven home from work in was indeed on fire.
There's something bizarre about watching your car go up in flames. Knowing that it was far too dangerous to mess with, we could only watch helplessly from the front porch while we waited for the fire department to arrive. The fire spread quickly, and with each passing moment, we grew more restless. Our only other car was parked right next to it, but with a bad alternator and a seized calliper, we couldn't move the other car.
Three firetrucks (it looked like three anyway-the whole experience happened in the midst of an odd mental fog, so it's hard to be certain of anything) arrived. It took awhile to put out the fire, and we got a good scare when the front tires blew out and made a heck of a noise doing it. Still, the firefighters did their job well, while my three year old happily watched the incident from his bedroom window. He thought this was the best thing that could have happened.
One thing I can be sure of it this. The car is finished. The fire started around the manifold, and it took all the major components of the car with it.
The car seats were also in the backseat of this car. They didn't actually sustain any damage, though they were permeated with the worst smoke smell ever. After washing the covers and scrubbing thoroughly, the seats smell like they've been a little too close to a campfire for awhile. That's progress. When they first came out, the smell was so strong I nearly coughed my lungs out while taking the covers off.
Overall, it wasn't the evening we had planned, though I'm sure our incident is being quietly discussed among our neighbors. Not that I can blame them. We were the show of our tiny town last night.
Now today will be spent trying to get our other car running. We didn't have the extra cash to deal with ANY of this, but that's how it goes. Plus we just fixed the brakes on it last weekend. I wish I were kidding about that, but I'm not. These things always happen at the worst time, I suppose. On the bright side, no one was hurt.
We suspected our Buick was going to break down for good in the near future, but we never expected it to go out in such a blaze of glory.
I need some coffee. Or tea. Or a day off from this mess.