FFS

So its Monday morning.
We wake up late.
The kids are shitty and won't do as they are told.
Hubby is stressing over his first day of work and losing everything, including his car keys.
There is a lot of shouting going on.
Finally I get the kids into the car, running fifteen minutes late.
Traffic horrendous, pissing down rain, and 2km traffic jam on the motorway giving the kids ample time to wind themselves up into a fit of yelling - which I coped with outstandingly well, by yelling back.
What would be the worst farking thing that could go wrong in this situation? What would be the most cliched, ridiculous thing to happen?

Yes. A FLAT FARKING TYRE.

So, as I came off the motorway I noticed the steering was All Over The Place, and I had a feeling it was the tyre. So I limped to the school car park, which mercifully is undercover, and was met with the flattest tyre I have ever seen.  No chance of getting to a garage on that baby. No way.

Not having the patience to wait for some man to rescue me - I'm sorry but my feminist principles would not cope with that - I changed it myself.  Had Dad offering advice on the mobile - like loosen the nuts before you jack the car up - which was brilliant because I would've done it the other way around, and away I went.

The worst bit was getting the spare tyre on, they're bloody heavy and of course my back was not happy. But now I'm home safe, swallowing neurofen, and feeling rather bloody pleased with myself.

Rargh.

:)