I feel like a big girl today.  It started with ordering a new vacuum bag online.  I’m not sure why I’m so impressed when I accomplish a task that requires the slightest bit of effort above and beyond opening a cupboard or going to a store.  I actually had to read the manual.  Our hoover wasn’t hoovering anymore.  Our “hoover” is actually a Miele, but here in the UK, Hoover has done what Kleenex has done back home in the states.  The brand name has become the name of the product itself.  But even better than Kleenex, Hoover is a pronoun, a noun, AND a verb. Well played Hoover.   I’m also so grateful for Amazon Prime, because the anticipation I am feeling over having a new bag, and a vacuum with some real gumption is too much for more than 24 hours.  (Have I mentioned that Amazon Prime gets you free ONE-DAY shipping ’round here?)

Then I finished one last online CEU course so I can renew my dental hygiene license this month.  It was a three credit course and I did it in 45 minutes.  Can’t beat that kind of efficiency, and now I will remind you all that using topical fluoride dentifrices and varnishes will [statistically] significantly reduce your risk of dental caries. (30-70% Jenkins et al, 1985. ) Also, having a professional license makes me feel like a real grown-up. Especially the part where I have to pay a lot of money.

I texted Richard and reminded him that our car has its third flat tire in as many months and he asked me to take care of it. Wha? I do my best to defy gender stereotypes, but flat tires? No thanks.  But since I do my best to defy gender stereotypes I decided to have a go at it.  Mind you, our car is a rental so fixing the flat tire consists of making a phone call to the rental company who sends someone to fix the tire. HA! (Insert emoticon with squinchy eyes and protruded tongue.) 

So I made the phone call and the man showed up.  He called me from outside my house and his accent was thick. I inferred that he wanted me to come out to the car so I threw on my coat and Simon put on some shoes and out we went. 

“You’ve got a puncher,” 
“Excuse me?”
“A puncher.”  
(That must be what the British call a flat tire.)
“A flat tire?”
“Yeah. A slow leaking puncher.”  
He hands me a paper to sign, whereupon I see the words. 
Slow leak puncture.
Ah. Right. 
“It’s a high car?”
“Um…. I don’t know…”
“A HIGH car?!” 
“Oh! A hire car. Yes.”  (Rental car.) 

He said he would inflate the tire so I could drive the car to the repair shop, but I panicked a bit because I needed to get to the kid’s school in time to pick them up.  He reassured me I would be fine. At least I think that is what he said. He used a clever gadget that connected to the car battery to pump up the tire while I grabbed shoes for myself and coat for Simon.  Then we drove the car to the tire place and dropped it off.  This is the part where I felt like a big girl.  

I knew exactly where the tire place was. I knew that we could catch the DLR at Greenwich, just a few hundred feet from the tire place and take it one stop to Deptford Bridge, which was just a quick walk from the kids school.  We did exactly that and got there just in time,  It felt like home.  I felt like I knew what I was doing.  And it felt good! Even Simon was impressed when we walked past his Nursery and he realized we had gone from the tire place to the school in the blink of an eye. It was stress-free and I’m quite proud.  

Then we came home from school and I resumed 100 loads of laundry and made Macaroni and Cheese from scratch with Snickerdoodles for dessert.  I haven’t been this productive since I had a real job.  

G’night folks.