Every week I stop and fill up my gas tank at a locally run gas station/mechanic garage/tire place. I go there because it is a full service station and I don’t like dragging the kids in and out of the car anymore than necessary. When I’m in a hurry on a morning that I have to go to the office, wrestling with the five point harness while making sure the other child is staying put then having to carry the one that has no self-control, struggling with holding the hand of a four-year-old boy who has “out-grown” holding mom’s hand while weaving through a busy gas station parking lot is not on my list of favorite things to do. Oh, and how could I forget the part about dodging the curious glances (of course I put that nicely) of various construction workers off to their jobs. Okay they aren’t always construction workers. There is also that creepy guy that used to come in to the little diner I worked at and would flirt with me <<shudder>> who always seems to be lurking around the gas station in the morning. Yeah, you get the picture.
Anyway, I have been going to this full service station since I had my first son. I love that they wash my windows, fill my gas tank and chat with you about whatever the subject of the day may be. By the way, it is always a good idea to find something other than the weather to chat about they hear about it over 50 times on any given day. When I had my Jeep, I’d pull up and roll down the windows to talk. My oldest son loved the attention he’d get from the service man. They’d talk about trucks, camping and other boy stuff. Since we got the minivan, however, he has not been able to talk to Mike or Donnie. This upsets my son almost to tears! We pull up to the gas pump and he begs me to open his window. I’ve tried to tell him that they don’t roll down and he gets frustrated and is left to tap on the window to get attention from his friends. “Mom I only want to be friendly.” Poor guy. I guess we’ll have to take the truck next time we pass that way so he can let his friends at the filling station know that he isn’t trying to be rude, mom’s minivan simply isn’t as friendly as the Jeep was.