The other night, Savannah got a late start headed back to school. I went to bed, expecting to get a text from her about an hour later. However, ten minutes later I hear her come back in the house, rummage around the kitchen and go back outside. Quick texts reassure me that she is "kk" but she is back in the house a few minutes later. I fired off another text.
"Are you sure you're ok?" (and yes, that is a direct quote. My texts tend to contain words like "you" and "are" and even "bastion".)
"Yeah, just a straw in my gas tank."
For some reason, she was surprised when I jumped out of bed, threw on clothes and ran outside when she gave me that response. I found her peering in to her gas tank using her cell phone as a flashlight, with a gas can and an Ortega taco sauce bottle at her feet. She explained that when she left for school, she realized she needed gas but didn't want to stop and pump any (i.e. spend her money). So, she came back home to get the 2 gallons of gas I keep for the lawn mower. She didn't realize the spout to the gas can was retractable so she came in the house, emptied out the bottle of taco sauce and tried to use that to put gas in the car. When that failed, she decided to use a drinking straw as a funnel. Needless to say, that did not work. I interrupted her trying to retrieve the straw with an ink pen and her cell phone.
"What are you doing, Savannah?"
"Trying to get the straw out of my gas tank", she replied calmly, as if digging straws out of gas tanks at midnight was a perfectly normal and rational thing to do. Considering that this story ends with her making it back to school on 3.73 worth of gas, driving around for a week with the straw in the tank, only to have her boyfriend with the ridiculously yummy accent to finally get the straw out for her, I guess maybe it was.
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