Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169: Grace: Everything Goes Wrong

It takes us about two and a half hours to go fifteen miles.

The car seat started the entire fiasco.

Everything was going fine. We even snuck Sadie into the store under the guise of a service dog, even though I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell for doing so. But come on. It isn’t like we could just leave her in the truck, and the camper’s hot without the air conditioning running.

Granted... they did make us buy a leash first, and Caine seemed abnormally interested in how easy it is to pose as a service dog, but those aren’t the type of details to derail our trip.

It all started when Caine finagled the oversized box into our cart and we made the mistake of thinking we were done. I very clearly recall saying, "Well, the hard part’s over," because choosing one was a lot harder than I thought.

Seriously, why are there so many types of car seats?

But I digress. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Anyway—we thought we were done.

Hah.

Bun had other plans. Ron calls it an "epic blowout", I call it "sensory trauma". (For me—not her.) She thought the entire situation was hilarious. We unanimously disagreed.

Caine was forced to run back to the camper for the supplies necessary to deal with the situation.

Of course, things couldn’t end there. Oh, no. That’d be too easy.

As soon as we made it to the long line of self-checkout stations, Jer had to pee, this time declaring his entire brain was floating in it and he would burst like a bomb.

Well, guess what?

You get a lot of looks when you have a kid shouting about being a bomb. I’m half-convinced the cops were called.

Not to mention, we just came from the bathrooms. But it was fine. Lesson learned: never assume kids know if they need to use the restroom.

Andrew, thankfully, took Jer and Ron both while Caine and I checked out. Sara insisted she didn’t need to go at all. (This turned out to be wrong.)

What happened next?

Ah, yes.

Installing a car seat isn’t as easy as it sounds. We spent another thirty minutes in the heat trying to get it installed without being slightly tilted to the right, before Caine reluctantly agreed to try Andrew’s blue sedan.

It took us five minutes to install it in his backseat.

Five minutes.

After sweating for thirty, trying to fight the truck and wondering if we needed a different brand.

Then, five miles down the highway, when we thought we were free and clear, Sara was hungry. So hungry she became what the boys call hangry, which involved a lot of snapping every time someone called her name. Which Jer did. Repeatedly.

And then she desperately needed to pee, too.

So of course, we pulled over at the next giant truck stop for gas station pizza, snacks, and yet another potty break.

But the horror doesn’t end there.

Bun had another epic blowout, all over Ron this time.

And then she threw up.

Everywhere.

But did we give up? No. Caine insisted everything was fine, even though up to that point it was an entire dumpster fire. Maybe two dumpster fires. Andrew, the jerk, told me, "Some days are just like that."

Silly me.

By some insane miracle, the flat occurred near a section of wide shoulder Caine could pull onto, so at least the camper’s not in any danger of being rear-ended. Still, the road isn’t that far from us.

Which brings us to now, where we are three adults staring at the offending truck tire that’s become our collective last fucking straw.

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