Yesterday Kevin and the kiddo and I tried to go on a road trip with our friends, the Ruesch's.
We were chatting together, the five of us squished into our car, cruisin' down the highway and excited to see Utah's gorgeous southern sights. But the car decided to up and quit about an hour into the journey, and we landed ourselves in the sleepy town of SCIPIO. We snagged some icewaters, cheese curds, caramels, and cowtales from the gas station as we waited to hear the diagnosis.
Luckily, the car trouble wasn't major--transmission fluid just needed replacing, and we could safely drive the vehicle back home and take it into the dealership the next morning to get the fluid replaced (it's weird to me that an auto shop couldn't do it... I thought they could do everything car-related?). So we scratched southern Utah and cruised back northward. At 9:30 at night we found ourselves finally getting some dinner and laughing and talking over a delightful meal at Texas Roadhouse.
What I loved (and learned) about the whole situation is that not once did my husband, little Charlie, Logan, or Shay show any signs of disappointment, frustration, or angst. The car was broke, so we changed plans... and still had a FANTASTIC time.
Life gives us little lemons. And when it does, heck, make a memorable date night out of it.
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