our adventure

Stefan picked me up for school yesterday. That sweetheart. I called him at 7:20am, overreacting about yet another less than urgent situation, and he left the comfort of his top bunk to listen to me cry while eating my Honey Nut Cheerios (which isn't a pleasant sound over the phone), and he found it in his heart to comfort and pray with me, and acutally thank me for waking him up because he had forgotten to set his alarm. And because we spent so much time on the phone, I found myself missing my bus, and Stefan offered to bring Momentum to pick me up and take me to school.
Well, we didn't make it to school on time. We ran out of gas about six blocks from my house, luckily on a side street rather than on busy Pembina Highway, which is all the busier due to stupid construction. This is the second time we've totally run out of gas together. Both times the same thing has happened. The car starts to glide smoother than usual, and before I even realize anything is wrong, Stefan looks over at me with a mixture of sheepish sweetness in his eyes, and batting his eyelashes, says, "Honey, we're out of fuel." And that's exactly what happened.
Stefan guided the car to a stop by the curb. Thank goodness for momentum, or else we might have been caught in the middle of the street. We prayed over the car to see if God could get us to a gas station on wheels, but the answer was no, so we went on foot.
We walked up to Pembina and to the first gas station, which was one of those Domos where the shack is only big enough for the one attendant, and everything else- drink coolers, various auto fluids etc.- is outside. The somewhat incompetent looking gas pumper told us that they didn't have gas cans. No explanation. Just "No, we don't" followed by a blank stare that said please go away and don't ask me to help you anymore.
Onward to Shell we walked, mittened hand in mittened hand. We were talking and joking the whole time as thoughts of school faded into the backgroud of our minds. Shell also lacked a gas can, but had a far kinder attendant in charge, who explained that they were not allowed to have gas in the building. He pointed us next door to Certigard, where we found ourselves rescued.
After dodging early morning traffic to get to the ATM across the street, we laid down the cash deposit and the jerry can was ours...for about half an hour.
Stefan put some gas in the can at Shell, and we started the trek back to the car, with Stefan continuously switching the jerry can from one hand to the other, and me dodging around so I could hold the free hand. At this point first class was half over for me, and Stefan stood no chance of getting to his first class on time, so we put the idea out of our minds and I promised him McDonald's breakfast in return for all his hard work.
So when it was all said and done, Certigard had their gas can, Shell was $20 richer, and Stefan and I were full of North America's favourite fast food breakfast. We were in time for our second classes, and a lot cheerier than when we left.
Sometimes it takes a minor little crisis to put things into perspective. I was so worked up when I got up that morning, feeling far to stressed to go to school, but feeling far to stressed about the idea of missing it to not go. When the car ran out of gas, I had two choices: to get frustrated because I definitely didn't need one more thing to go wrong, or to accept it. We chose to accept it.
Stefan is a master at accepting things going wrong, and taking care of them. I have a tendency to get a bit put off at first, but I love to have a good time, no matter what I'm doing. Running out of gas was probably one of the best things that could have happend that morning. It gave me a break from school, some good time with Stefan, some exercise, and a BLT bagel from McDonald's.
I feel better now. A lot better.