Chivalry Is Not Dead

Yesterday was just like any other Tuesday. I dropped Logan and Caleb off at school and came home to do whatever it is that moms without kids do (I still haven't figured that one out). When it came time to go get the boys I left a little early, took my time and stopped at Starbucks for a (decaf, of course) Frappacino and went on to get them. Other than having to drag Caleb to the car because he was still asleep when I picked him up, it was an uneventful trip to the car. As I left the church and passed under the freeway bridge, I did the unthinkable, I ran over something that I can only describe as a rather large chunk of metal. As with most times when I run over something, I just prayed that it did nothing, but I could not ignore the very loud sound that I heard as I passed over it. I came to a light and I hoped all was fine, until I took off again. My poor little car was making the worst noise and I managed to pull off onto a small road with no traffic. I got out and looked and lo and behold I had a flat tire. Not flat like leaking air, flat like a pancake. Now, here I am about 5 miles from home with 2 kids, pregnant and it's cold and windy. I'm not a girl who was never taught how to do this and I would have tried to change it myself, but the tire iron just happened to be missing from my trunk. I called Jes and he said he would try to get ahold of one of his guy friends to come help me. About the time that I hung up with him, a very young man had doubled back and came around to help me. He changed my tire, using his own tools to get the lug nuts off. I was so relieved and it was a teachable moment for the boys. When I got back into the car, I said, "Boys, when you grow up and see a lady on the side of the road with a flat tire, please help her." Logan looked right at me and said, "I will" and somehow, knowing him, I know he will.