I was stressed out today and needed to chill. The weather was nice outside so... I thought it'd be a good idea to go on a bike ride with D.
Somehow an adult size bike was very hard to find. After searching the garage I found my bike was lost under tons if stuff that has been stored in the garage like Halloween decorations, plates, books, toddler mattress and pretty much anything you can imagine. (Seriously.) I had to dig it out of the garage from under piles of junk that was sort of organized for my coming yard sale. This about killed me. There was barely enough room to maneuver and move things and I got myself and my bike all banged and scratched up trying to free it from all this crap.
Once I got the damn thing out I discovered the tires were flat. Figures. I probably should have let the idea go but after the battle to get the bike out I felt invested in the project so giving up wasn't going to happen. The pump was easy to spot... not so easy so reach. I used the mattress and some other boxes to make a platform to climb and cross so I could reach the pump. I heard something crack in the process. Still not sure what it was and I have no desire to find out.
After a final step and my leg punching through a plastic bin shattering the plastic and again scratching myself up I had the pump in hand! The return trip from my horribly constructed bridge apparatus was just as bad and a pile of books cascaded across the floor. I left them there.
So once I had the pump I started to pump the tires. I haven't don this since I was a kid. I put the hose thingy on the tire nozzle thingy and pushed the pump as hard and fast as I could and the freaking hose popped off and smacked my shin just hard enough to sting. I had to call B in to hold the plug on so I could pump.
I pumped them both up as much as I could and hopped on the bike. I guess I hadn't done a very good job because they were only slightly less flat then before. So we had to do it again.
I finally got them pumped and we hit the road like an hour after I decided to go for a ride. Half way through, literally just far enough from the house to make getting back a real pain in the ass... D takes a digger and in a rush to get to her I jump off my bike. It crashes to the floor.
She's scratched up but ok. My bike wasn't. The tire popped out of the rim and is flat again. So at this point I have a crying toddler and her bike, my bike with a flat tire and zero patience left. Let's just say it was a very long trip home. We got back to the house but after the attempt to chill I was more worked up then ever! Me and my good ideas.