It's a beautiful September day. I'm at home baking a peach galette (see pictured- THIS is what it looks like when you are nice to me.) for a neighbor who was really vocal during my first-ever Gospel Doctrine class (I'm the teacher now! Craziness but I'm actually sort of enjoying it. So far.) when everyone else was sitting quietly, content to let me sweat it out.
Anyway, the galette-deserving lady is actually my bishop's wife and she lives down the street. So I am going to drive the galette down to her because I have to then run to Sam's Club to get diapers (I had two left. I need to work on my diaper food storage or something. Annoying.), then across town to B&N to meet Mandy and hang out for a bit. K had been driving the car all morning running errands and then he biked up to the school for his French Lit class so I could do my stuff. Well, I pull into the bishop's driveway, grab the galette, leave the car running, tell Avery I'll be right back (she has fruit leather and is completely sticky and in heaven so I take the Please Do Not Disturb approach), ring the doorbell and chat with Sister Hathaway for a bit in her doorway.
When I turn back around to head to the car, I feel like something is off. Don't worry- Avery is fine. The car, however, is not. Klayton had forgotten to fill it up all morning, and apparently the Empty light had been on since the day before, so... Yep. I'm outta gas. And the car is dead. In my bishop's driveway. Now, for those of you who have known your bishop for 10 years and he's your BF and/or you have no shame, you would have just knocked on the door again and asked for a gas can. I've only spoken to the bishop's wife, like, once before (hey, I've been in Young Women's) and I'm SO not comfortable doing that (Side note- They totally would have helped me. They are great people. I just couldn't handle the embarrassment. I'm a wuss). So I grab Avery and trudge up the street to my house (yes, I trudged. It was hot out and I was embarrassed ["Please don't look out your window. Please don't hear me desperately trying to gun my car to life." etc.] and super mad at Klayton [oh, he got an angry mid-French-class phone call, alright]) to get our gas can. Which is EMPTY as well. Of course it is. At this point Avery tells me, "I scared, Mommy." because I am grumbling quite a bit under my breath.
So, I do the only thing I can think of. I call my home away from home. The Chandlers. They live right across the street from the bishop and they have saved me before (I called them when a stock pot decided to assault my face and Klayton was across town showing a vacancy, and they rushed right over and watched Avery while I went to emergency care. I called them when I needed a place to put all of the food I made for Avery's birthday party and they brought me a big, long table 10 minutes later. I called them 5 minutes after that when I realized that our yard looked awful and they let Klayton come down to borrow weed whacker. Etc. Pretty much they should wear capes and spandex 24/7.). Ashley doesn't answer her phone or my text so I just walk back down the hill and knock on their door. Her phone is broken. It's good to know that I'm not the only one having an annoying afternoon. Anyway, Brother Chandler had just filled up their cars and gas can the night before!! I think he was listening to a prompting. So Ashley helped me dump their gas into my car and get it started. And she did it with minimal teasing, too!
So yesterday I got my car and two gas cans filled up, returned one to the Chandlers with my gratitude, ran to Sam's, cancelled with Mandy (she and the kids came by to meet Rocky for a minute before they headed home. Love them!), let Klayton grovel for quite a while , did a good deed for a neighbor, and let a neighbor do (yet another) good deed for me! Lessons learned: A) Klayton is good for bringing pizza home for dinner when he's in the dog house (The really yummy kind from Papa John's- Spinach Alfredo Chicken Tomato. Mmmmm). B) Check the gas gauge more often, even when K says he'll take care of it. C) Don't do nice things. It just bites you in the bum. D) Which reminds me, must bake the Chandlers something ASAP.