Okay, brilliance* was promised. The bedesisters (bedesisters.etsy.com) spent the weekend at the Hatch Market in Griffin, GA, which is about 3 to 4 hours from home for us. We sold market bags, loads of pendants and a hat. A great time was had by all. The adventure was on the way home.
Do you know what happens when a tire blows out on your camper when you're headed down I-20? At 70 mph? In the dark? I do. First, the pieces of the tire tread that literally "blow out" bend the metal on the side of the camper. The noise causes you to look at your stunningly calm husband and say, "Was that US?"
He'll say, "Yep," and pull over to the side of the interstate. Did I mention that it was dark? As in 9:30 pm? At that point, he'll sit for a minute, deciding what needs to be done. Then, he'll look for a flashlight. Yay, there's one in the camper! That has no batteries. No, I don't mean the batteries are dead; I mean the flashlight is empty. So, that's okay, there's light from the oncoming cars and HUGE trucks.
"Where's the jack?" your still very calm husband says.
"Ummm...." you respond.
"I see it," he says, "but it's stuck." So he looks in the owner's manual for instructions on how to get it out. In the meantime, you will frantically call your insurance company, vaguely remebering roadside assistance you have with someone.
"No," the lady on the phone says, "If the vehicle you are using to pull it had roadside assistance, it would be covered. But it's not." Fine for her; she's in some cubicle somewhere, perfectly safe.
At this point, still calm, but somewhat sweatier husband says, "I think the roadside assistance is with the dealership's warranty on the truck." Great, but that's not the thing with the blowout.
So, with no options left, you sit in your seat and pray, really hard, that you both make it home without the aid of an ambulance or hearse.
For the record, we did make it home.
*I reserve the right to define "brilliant".