My Push Present-this one's for Johnny.

So, for pushing out a baby, I am getting new tires for the Expedition. Yes, you read that right-just what I always wanted-four new Continental tires for ripping my who-ha open.

Let me preface this story by saying, if only I would've known this was my present about 2 years ago, I would never have gotten rid of that damn Explorer tire from hubs old car.

A tire that was QUITE hard to get rid of-you see, it all started when one of my OCD rampages kicked in, and I was determined to clean out the garage. This is a task in and of itself, since with two adults and two dogs and a two car garage, you naturally aquire boatloads of unneccessary crap. Plus, my husband is a friggin' pack rat and NEVER throws anything away because he forgets about it he might need it one day (in twenty years). So while I am making piles of things to sling, give away, and just hide so he will forget about it (don't judge), I find a TIRE with a RIM on it. WTF? So that goes in the Goodwill pile--little do I know. They don't take tires. I guess it's not safe-I mean why would we have a tire in our GARAGE if it worked? So, on the way home from my Goodwill-a-thon, I stop by this Mexican Tire Shop that buys used tires (literally, that is what the sign says- in Spanish) and I try to pawn this tire off on them. They are like, "Dude, we don't want your stinkin' tire." Rats! I want to get rid of this thing and it needs to happen before hubs sees it and wants to use it remembers it. So when I get home I try to fit it in the BFI trashcan-not happening. A garbage bag the size of Nantucket-not happening. Crap! What am I gonna' do?

I move on from the tire dilemma and begin reorganizing the garage. Hubs comes home and is all like (insert my imitations here-in the fake deep voice), "Oh, it looks good honey, awesome, oh, look my fishing pole from first grade, aww, my tire cleaner, cool, my sprinkler!" Then he sees it-the tire.

Him-"Where did that come from?"

Me-"I found it-in the corner.?.?.?"

Him-"Cool, we can use that later."

Me-"For what?!?!?!"

Him-rolling his eyes-"The car."

Me-"Um, no-that thing is not on a car for a reason-we are not 'saving it' for a car. Ewww, don't be so cheap."

Him-"Fine then, just fine-get rid of it."

Little does he know how hard I've tried.

So, sweet hubs helps me finish the job, and we move the tire out to the driveway. We keep working and organizing and all of a sudden I look up and see the most hilarious thing ever. Apparently the tire is pissed about all my talking about it, and it's making a getaway. It is rolling down the street. I'm all like, "Hubs, the tire, get it, hurry!" Why am I screaming "get it," when I've been trying to GET RID OF IT all dang day? Who knows-hubs goes running after the tire, which by now is rolling along at about 13 miles per hour-downhill. Did I mention we live on a slight hill? The tire makes a quick left into a cul-de-sac and rolls to a stop-hubs catches up to it, and I come following after.

I'm all like, "Let's just leave it here and run!"

He's all like, "You are heinous-we are NOT leaving our TIRE in someone's CUL-DE-SAC Susannah."

I'm all like, "Why?"

He just glares at me and starts rolling the tire UP HILL back to our dang house!

Man, I was so close! When the job is all done, we decide to tape a garbage bag to the tire and pray that the trash company will take it, or else I'm finding a cliff and rolling it off.

The next day when I drive up, what do I see after collection day?

Not this, thank God! They took it! Now though, it seems the tire is coming back to haunt me. Like I said before, this is what I get for giving birth. New tires-awesome.