pushing another kind of baby

Ten years ago this month, my dad gave Patrick and I a rockin' wedding gift. A red 1999 Jeep Cherokee Sport. Many of you know the Jeep. It has stood by us these ten years, taken two of our kids home from the hospital, driven to NJ, ND, and points in between, and we hope it will be Henry's first car in another 10 years. That is why, with loving tenderness and care, Patrick pushed it three blocks to the mechanic yesterday. We had needed to take it in for a service for a while, but you know, 3 kids, 4 jobs, summer travel, etc, etc. So, I called the Dave Mays, a mechanic, yesterday morning to see if we could bring it by after Patrick got off of work. This is a mechanic we had not seen before, so we didn't know exactly where he was located. Locating him proved to be a daunting task. As I was en route, Patrick calls me and asks, "Where is this place?" I answer, "Behind the Sonny's on Waldo." That's what the guy told me, sounded easy enough. How much, other than an old bowling alley, is actually back there? Surprisingly, a lot. Like, a whole community of boat building/ restoration warehouses. And the gas station for the public works trucks. And about 5 different shady mechanics. And 25 empty looking metal buildings. Round and round he drove, and the little Jeep kept chugging, but they just couldn't find it. As I was turning the corner by Sonny's, I see them waiting to turn. He pulls into Sonny's while I continue driving, thinking, "How hard can this be?" He gets out at Sonny's to ask directions. When he comes back out, he goes to start the car and ... click click click. He tries again and again. No luck. Meanwhile, I couldn't find the mechanic either, so I come back, get the directions from him, go find the place, and return to Patrick to inform him that yes, the car died 3 blocks away from the mechanic.

"So what are we going to do?" I say, over the 3 screaming children in the backseat.

"I guess I'll have to push it," he responds.

"Really? This is an option?" I didn't say that. I just thought it. So there, in 98 degree heat and 100% humidity, my Thor pushed our wedding gift almost a mile, out of parking lots and around corners, with the help of a kind Public Works employee who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and too much of a Good Samaritan to keep driving. I arrived at the mechanic's before them, obviously, entered with my three screaming kids, and told Dave Mays himself that our car would be here momentarily as my husband was pushing it down the street.

"Pushing it?" He asked.

"Yes. "

And we won't wait this long to have our car serviced ever again.

Later last night, Patrick said, "Man, that was a good workout. Too bad I can't just push the car around the yard every day." I told him maybe on his way home from work, once he gets to our street, he could just turn the car off, hop out, and push it home. But then again, that's only 1/4 mile, so it probably wouldn't feel like much of a work out after all.