LaughLoveLiveLife: A blog about the funnier, lighter side of life along with tips from a middle school teacher.

Last year I began with a blog about a certain pest that every household has experienced.  You know, the  houseguest that stays for days and you try to lure it toward one of your doors that lead outside.  My houseguest finally went on to greener pastures when I got tired of chasing it with a rolled up newspaper.  Every time I thought I was going to be successful in ending its visit, it raced toward a door and just as I was about to open the door, had a change of heart and made a quick turn back into the safety of my kitchen.  I finally became fed up and pulled out the vacuum.  Thank goodness for strong suction.  Thank you, Mr. Hoover.  Now, on to this year’s conumdrum.   If you are familiar with Charlotte, NC, you know that it is often said that the state symbol is the orange traffic cone.    After living here for almost seventeen year, I would  have to agree.  Along with the never ending constructions, I learned very quickly upon our arrival that at certain intersections, there is no rhyme or reason to the street names or the extension of a street name.  Enjoying a leisurely drive along Indian Trail Fairview Rd. only leads one to cross over an intersection and find that your street name has changed while you are still on the same road.  This would not be such a problem except, about a half mile down the road, the street name can change back to the original name, thus leaving the newcomer utterly confused if they do not realize they are still on the same road from the beginning of their trip.  This happens all over the city of Charlotte and with the road construction at an all time maximum, it leads many a motorist into a massive panic attack or state of confusion.  Enter my husband.  The sweetest, nicest, most helpful guy a neighbor could ask to have.  Our neighbor recently fell and broke her leg in her classroom.  For Spring break, she decided to travel to visit her family.  Her husband had every intention of picking her up at the airport but threw his back out and couldn’t drive.  My husband was asked to  make the trip to the airport for her 10:30p.m. arrival and quickly agreed to act as chauffeur.  Now my husband’s car is two door so thinking ahead, he had the foresight to take my four door car.  Unfortunately, neither one of us thought to look at the gas gauge.  So here my husband is driving along and he notices the car message says 19 miles to empty.   He is about ten minutes from the airport and pulls off to try to find gas as he know there should be several stations in the area.  Well, there are certainly several gas stations as he thought but with all the construction, he can’t seem to get to one.  Well, he finally gets to a gas station but is so turned around by the construction that he has no idea if the airport is north or south.  He figures out that it is South but now he has to find a place to turn around.  There are many car dealerships in the area but they are all chained closed without even a turnaround.  So he continues his quest driving slowly only to see light behind him.  He is greeted by a police officer saying,” Sir, do you realize you are driving 10 miles an hour, 5 miles an hour, then 15 miles.”  “Yes,” explains my husband.  “I am trying to find a place to turn around to get to the airport but with all the construction I couldn’t figure out which way the airport actually was, north or south.”  “I know,” lamented the police officer.  “I get turned around all the time with this mess.’  “I don’t even know what to tell  you from here.”  “Well, “said my husband,  “I guess it is time for the GPS.”   Now that wasn’t his only run in with the law that night.  He makes it to the airport and collects our friend.  He is struggling to get her and her walker in the car and airport security comes up to him and says, “Sir, you can’t park here this long.”   “I am trying to get the walker in the car along with my buddy’s wife that has a broken leg,” explains my husband.  “Sir, you can’t park here this long,” repeats the security guard.  Kuddos to my husband for not losing it, which at this point he just lifts his arms in frustration and points toward the car and my poor friend with the broken leg.  Sometimes there are just no words!