OK. I make no claim to have more sense than God gave a goat. Big however, I can drive a stick shift. Well. This morning, 18 hours after picking up my brand new car from the dealership, I was posed with the menial task of shifting the car into reverse to exit my garage. Child's play. Fifteen minutes later, I was cursing and on the verge of tears to a chorus of "Let's go Mommy!" from the back seat. I eventually gathered enough momentum from rolling forward in fourth gear to coast into the street, and we were off. Forward: not a problem. I get to my mom's house to drop off the kids. Same dilemma only this time, neutral helped me out.

By the time I got to work five phone calls, six apologies and 15 minutes late(r), I was Hell bent on finding reverse. Schmigity schmigity. I'll have to call the dealer. I'm defeated. Befuddled. Speaking of befuddled, I heard tale of an actual debate that transpired between two people. It seems person A thought the correct pronunciation is be-few-dulled (I swear) and person B correctly pointed out the misarticulation. It could've come to blows. I quickly surveyed the office to find out who knew how to drive a stick and explained the problem. Not a single helper. Momma sad.

Then Jasen Hobbins came back from riding a horse and found a button you have to lift up to make my car go backwards and now he's my hero the end. Awww snap.