Ghosts of Goonies Past

I should probably preface this by relating that in the past week I've had one dead car battery and a flat tire (on a new tire, sigh).  So when I got a call from my sister-in-law this morning that our other SIL was sick, I headed out to pick up her kids.  Well, I TRIED to go get her kids that is.  Once again, the car battery was dead.  I'm starting to understand why my brothers call the Wal-Mart Everstart batteries "Neverstarts".  So, moving on, no biggie right?  I am a mechanic after all, and the Motor Sergeant of my Reserve unit to boot.  I could totally handle this.  I would just jump on my motorcycle and head up to get the kids (trading the bike for her van of course).  It was at that moment that I realized that the fifty times I had forgotten to go to her house to get my keys back found me stranded yet again.  That's twice in like, five minutes.  So, being the resilient and ever professional Staff Sergeant that I am I realized that I have like three bicycles at my disposal.  Win-Win right?  Get a little exercise AND still get the mission accomplished.  WRONG!  Every single tire was flat.  Now I was 0 for 3.  It was at this exact moment as I shook my head, fighting to hold back the onslaught of expletives that was bubbling to the surface, that I spotted a glimmer of pink and purple.  That's right, my 9 year old niece had left her bike at our house.  Providence?  Perhaps.  The setting-up of hilarity?  Definitely!

So I proudly mounted the Pink Pariah and headed out.  Now, you should keep in mind that this trip of mine was no more than a couple of blocks, but most of that is uphill, and I am horribly out of shape.  As I panted and pedaled, panted and pedaled, I slowly made my way up the hill.  My muscles were on FIRE, and I'd only ridden about twenty feet.  I really should have just stopped and walked at this point, but I'm much too stubborn (and not terribly intelligent) for that.  Cars started passing me at this point, and my brain was swimming with the comments that must be swirling around in them.  And who could blame them?  If I were passing a grown woman with bodacious bed hair, raggedy mismatched clothes grabbed off the floor at the last minute, riding a tiny pink and purple bike, gasping for air and sweating like a whore in church, there's no way I would let that go without a massive burst of laughter.  At this precise moment I had a flash of Brand (the older brother from The Goonies) riding the stolen little girls bike, chasing after his kid brother.  Cyndi Lauper suddenly started singing "Good Enough" in my head, and then everything was ok again.  Somehow being horribly embarrassed is completely nullified if it reminds you of someone else's similar moment, or at least that's how my defective brain works.  And I'm ok with that.  

For now I'm going to go run and see why my four year old just yelled "Oh my spine!"...

This is basically what I looked like this morning, except without the training wheels or sweats.