My car has been driving a little funny. And then, on our way back from the airport, the low tire pressure light from my car came on. Goddammit! Shit like this always happens when I'm driving to do something important! I was freaking out; the light went on as I was driving north on 35WN. But my parents told me we could take the car all the way home. I didn't think it was a good idea, but frankly, I reverted to child mode, and I trusted that I was going to be OK. And, now that I think about it here, I was going to be OK. Because I was with them when this bad thing happened. It beats being alone when your tire pops in the middle of the highway.
So while I was panicking as all get-out, I drove my car, rarely going above 60 mph, all the way to the nearest gas station closest to home. We parked at the air pump in case the tires were still good enough to get us all the way home with pumped-in air. And Father said that, if worse comes to worst, I can take the minivan to work while they, who are retired, get the tire fixed. But the darndest thing, all the tires looked upon initial inspection to be just fine. And I broke out my tire pressure gauge to see if any of the tires was extremely low. None of them were. In fact, all of them were well above the recommended pressure. I actually need to let air out.
I need to wake up early and look at the tires one more time in the morning, just in case the tires were lying to me. But if they're good, the tire pressure warning light lit up in error ... which it has done on occasion, though not any time recently. A sigh of relief if it is only a bad sensor instead of a flat tire. And a gigantic smile for me that I didn't have to go through that episode alone. I had my parents with me, and I am grateful, at least on this one night.
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