Pit Crew Breakfast

Don't you love it when your Saturday mornings plan themselves?

Like finding this after 6pm on a Friday.
Did I ever mention the part about how my dad is a mechanic? And reads my blog?

Hi Dad!

Nothing to see here.

In my own defense, I've known the tires needed tending, but was hoping to put it off a bit longer. I did not realize they were this bad. And, yes, I took care of it immediately.

If you've known SweetPea & I long enough, you know that SweetPea has something of a history with tires. I'm not sure what it is about her (or Babe, the Big Blue Ox), but we went through an unreasonable number of tires when SweetPea drove her our truck. Finally I told her that the very next time we purchased a vehicle, we were shopping it from the tires backwards. If she insisted on going through so many of them, we would be getting a vehicle that would not break the bank to replace them.

*ahem*

$373 for a pair.

So apparently my diabolical tire shopping scheme didn't so much work. Fortunately, this is probably not a purchase we'll have to make very often. Because tires don't seem to pop around me the way they do around SweetPea.

While I was waiting for Barnahbus' new shoes, I walked down to the local greasy spoon diner for breakfast.

The onions & bell peppers were raw, by the way, which I believe qualifies as blasphemy. The potatoes were cold, the egg whites were runny and the "spread" (because I'm sure it would be too much to hope that it was actual butter) on the toast wasn't even melted in.

On the plus side, though, my cup always contained hot coffee. And I can go through some coffee.

This being a stark contrast to Friday's breakfast (technically lunch)(shutup):

By the way, there is a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a chocolate chip waffle in that mess. It was really, really good.

And then I napped.