I realized that I never really touched on our "honeymoon." I figured that could be blog worthy because well, it was our honeymoon and it was a disaster. For starters Jack began getting his molars two days before we were set to drop him off at Greg's parent's house. He had been running a fever and was just overall miserable to the point where I almost nixed the plan because I didn't want to be like "hey wanna take on the responsibility of caring for MY sick baby? It'll be a blasty-blast!" But they insisted so the honeymoon went forward.
The day of we decided to book a hotel, one preferably walking distance to the concert venue (we went to see Kings Of Leon in Mesa). We had beer and debauchery to partake in and in case you haven't heard neither of those things go well behind the wheel. When I asked Greg for the street the amphitheater was on he said "Center." I heard "Central." I typed it in, found a cute vintage hotel and clicked the online reservation forms. Greg filled in the credit card info and only AFTER purchasing one evening at The San Carlos did we realize my SNAFU- "Center" and "Central" are two entirely different words. Words that have about 45 minutes between them. So walking to the venue was out of the cards, as well as drinking if we were to drive all that way. Still we carried on with what should have been perceived as an omen. Because we're go-getters.
We packed up Jack and all of his overnight paraphenallia and our overnight bag o' tricks (change of clothes, toiletries,"concert/holyshitwehaveanightawayfromthebaby" cigarettes, veggie chips, otter pops, and booze). We kissed our little bearer of molars good-bye and headed to Phoenix. We were quite jazzed, riling each other up with a homemade compilation of all our favorite King's songs and eating Wendy's, when suddenly- pffftt..."what the shit!" It was then when I noticed that there was gas, our gas, spilling all along the highway behind us. "Pull over, pull over" I shrieked. We got out of the car and realized that what seemed like just another piece of torn tire on a highway, was actually a piece of metal. I piece of metal that tore open our gas tank leaving us stranded in between our home and our destination. Smack dab in the middle.
To be continued...