What Did I Say About Mondays?
Newest Monday episode:
Basically we aren't rich. We have one car. A Volvo. An older one at that. So much so that we have dubbed it the "vovô" which means grandpa in Portuguese.
Anyways, our little vovô has caught some illness that has made him behave quite silly at times. Either that or he's getting fussy in his old age. If you remember, the last "Monday episode" had to do with him as well..
But this weekend, he decided he was going to die at the most unfortunate times. Such as turns, lights, etc. Fortunately nothing too majorly embarrassing happened, but still uncomfortable situation! I was uneasy about driving him to school this week, so when Daddy told me he needed the car today and he'd be driving me to school this morning, I was very happy.
So we get started early this morning (a half hour earlier because like father like daughter and we are paranoid about being on time), and I start chatting. I do that you know.. Shocking right? Me? The ever so quiet one who has published no more than 440+ blog posts? (Sarcasm.) I trusted Daddy knew the exit to the university, he trusted I'd point it out. But I had my eyes on the mirror in front of me because I learnt this addictive thing this week. It's called a fishtail braid. Mine come out terrible so far, but that doesn't deter me. I continue braiding like nobody's business.
When I finally take a look at where we're going.. we're almost entering Vancouver. No biggy, we have a GPS.. except she's going crazy and "recalculating. recalculating. recalculating." sums up all that comprised her vocabulary this morning. So a couple of stops for directions and much "recalculating" I made it to class with three minutes to spare.
When Daddy came to pick me up, our vovô wasn't with him. He's been taken to the car hospital. Except he's silly. This means the mechanic has called us and asked.. "What's wrong with the car?" Apparently he has started just fine; he has gone for a spin without dying or showing symptoms of illnesses. Apparently our car hates me. Or hates Mondays. I think he hates Mondays.. And I don't blame him.