WhoaMan

I'm frequently reminded of the differences between my brain and my wife's brain. As I step into the closet to retrieve the day's clothes, only to have to step over the last few day's of her wardrobe, I am reminded. When I get into her car and find the entire contents of a 7-11 convenience store strewn about the cabin, I am reminded. When she tells me she's starved for affection, and I reply with a bodily function, I am reminded.

I was reminded yet again yesterday when I arrived home after work. "That low tire light thingy is on in the van again."

Now this is usually not a reason for concern. The light kicks on when the tire goes below 30 psi, so it's frequently just a matter of putting a little air in to make the light go away. But the light is usually accurate. In this case, the light was somewhat more disturbing.

"Which tire is it complaining about?"
"One of the rear ones."
"Oh, one of the BRAND NEW rear ones that was put on 2 days ago?"
"Uh, I think so."

On Saturday I took the van in because there was a large nail sticking out of the side of one of the rear tires. Therefore I immediately thought, "Oh great, the tire place jacked up the installation of a new tire."

"Did you take a look at the tire after you noticed the light?"
"Nope."
"Did the car drive funny or anything?"
"Uh, erm, no."

I stepped into the garage to have a look at the offending tire. It was flat. Completely flat.

"When did you first notice the light? Saturday? Sunday?"
"Dunno...probably just today. I don't really notice dash lights so much."

I decided to inspect the flattened tire myself. In approximately three seconds, I discovered a screw sticking out of the treads of the new tire. It was a large screw, of the type one might find holding together the corner of an oil rig in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

"There's a large screw in this new tire, dear."
"I didn't run over anything! I didn't do it!"
"I'm not upset, dear. But can you just watch where you drive?"
"I always look. I didn't run over anything."

Erin always assumes that I'm angry, and that her insistance that she hasn't driven through an actual screw production factory leaves her blameless in the incident. In reality, it's the annoyance of having to return to the tire shop and drink their nasty coffee that is bothersome, and I'm genuinely not that upset.

Historically, though, she doesn't always notice things in the road. On her previous vehicle, she drove through what appeared to be the remains of a crash involving a truck carrying plate glass windows in front of her place of employment, only to have the tires go flat later that day while parked at the school. I noticed the large amount of glass as I arrived to put on her spare tire.

When I asked her about the glass, she replied, "What glass?" Indeed.