As my husband was sitting on the side of the road, changing the tire of my minivan, he's busy telling me how horrible my van is and how we need a new car.
Um, babe? I ran over a nail. It has nothing to do with all of the cookie crumbs on the floor, stains on the seat or miles on the engine.
But he did rescue me, which involved going to work late and laying in the road. And I'm so grateful. And my minivan lives another day.