"Put the Penis Away, Please"

The AAA is the closest I've ever come to having a personal servant. All I have to do is ring Jeeves, er, the Triple A, and usually within half an hour I'm getting a tow, a jump or a ride to the car repair place of my choice. I think they are starting to know my voice. We've had four calls for emergency road service within four weeks. I'm having bad automotive karma lately. I was parked in front of Grace Lutheran Church where the 5-year-old has his piano lessons in the church school. Our van is out of commission with Electrical Reflux Disease, so I had my inlaws' Olds Delta 88. Normally I would wait in the air conditioned church building, but I did not want the 3-year-old to whoop and holler, or shred the sanctuary flowers. While we waited in the car, the 3-year-old jammed his Old MacDonald tape into the vehicle's tape player such that it cannot be extracted. So anyone's future listening pleasure in this car depends entirely on their enjoyment of the E-I-E-I-O refrain. I had the keys in the ignition. When the 5-year-old finished his lesson I buckled them into their car seats. THEN the 5-year-old needs the bathroom. So I unbuckle. Usher kids out. Feel for keys in my pocket. Lock the automatic doors. And...oops. The keys to the car were still in the ignition. The ones in my pocket were the keys to my house and our ailing van. My purse was on the front seat. Sigh. Now we had to catch the music teacher before she left the building. I explained our emergency. Fortunately the classroom had a phone which she said I was welcome to use, but once we left the room the heavy door would automatically lock us out. The 5-year-old was holding his crotch and moaning. But I had to make the calls first! Or we couldn't get back in! Meanwhile the 3-year-old handed me a sticky, half-eaten piece of chocolate. (Where did THAT come from? The KitKat Fairy?) The only lucky part was that I had taken it with my left hand. Of course the room had NO garbage can, no tissues or blank paper of any kind, no place to put the gob of chocolate. Using my right hand only I called Hubby at work. He informed me I had the only set of keys to that car. He offered to call Triple A for me. Two problems: I didn't know the address of this church. I didn't know the phone number I was calling from. And of course I didn't have my Triple A card. "I'll read you our membership number," he offered. "And give you the Triple A's Emergency Road Service number..." "Wait!" I wailed. "I have nothing to write with." With one hand I searched all over some teacher's desk. All her writing implements were apparently vacationing in Cape Cod for the summer. Would I have to smear the number on my chest in chocolate? Finally I located a nub of chalk. I scribbled the numbers onto the chalkboard. The 5-year-old was jumping from foot to foot and pointing at his crotch. "I have to make another call!" I hissed at him. "Or we will NEVER be able to leave." Fumbled through more papers on this woman's desk and located an address of where we were. Told my sad story to the Triple A as hurriedly as possible. To the bathroom at last! Relief for the 5-year-old. I ditched the oozing chocolate. We took up positions near the Olds Delta 88. I scanned the road for a rescue vehicle. The 5-year-old was giggling. The 3-year-old had dropped his shorts and was entertaining traffic with a Penis Display. "Put the penis back, please," I commanded. "It isn't for showing in public." A minute later more giggling. He was now mooning traffic. "Pants up!" I ordered. "If I see any more bare butts or penises someone's going to get a time out." More giggling, but the pants were in place. The 5-year-old and the 3-year-old passed the time singing, "Old MacDonald had a penis...with a butt, butt here and a butt, butt there." Sigh. Finally my AAA savior arrived, using his magic tool to open the door in less than 15 seconds. This did not involve him dropping his pants. We have only two more emergency road service calls allotted to us for the remainder of the year. Then I think we get blacklisted.