We've all had these experiences. You know the kind where your car doesn't cooperate, the weather takes a turn for the worse and your fen-shey is out of whack.

I was on my way to a meeting last week and had just turned in front of the armory when I heard something start dragging on the road. I pulled into the Armory parking lot and looked under my car. My tailpipe was bumping on the ground. I reached up to see if I could move it and it came completely off.

I had to laugh. "Well, that was stupid of me. I could have really burned my hand." I tossed it; okay I heaved it into my back seat and got back in my car wondering how much noise my car would make. Surprisingly, it didn't sound any different. I went on my merry way.

When I got back to work I told Jared what had happened. He shrugged his shoulders and warned me not to sit in the car with the windows rolled up. "You might gas yourself," he said. I laughed and said I would remember this.

I leave work and head to the grocery store. As a caution I roll down all the windows and pull out on the road. Immediately, the gray thingie I put over my windshield in the winter to keep from having to scrape ice off begins flying around my backseat.

I slow down and finally catch a corner of it and am able to reel it in and smush it underneath the front seat. I turn my attention back to the road and discover my parking permit has flown out the window. Okay, I think, no big deal. Just shrug it off mb. They know your car and your space number at GPD.

I move on down the road and notice my windshield is bug splattered. I hit the wipers and cleaning fluid button and nothing happens. I move it again and the wipers start smearing bug goo all over the window. I quickly hit the fluid button and this time it comes gushing out just as the wiper blade hits the end of the windshield and knocks the spray back inside my window and all over my sunglasses.

"That's okay," I think. No big deal. It will be easier to clean my glasses now. I keep the wiper blades moving and take off my sunglasses and wipe them on my shirttail. As I do I notice something is leaving black streaks across my shirt where I've wiped them.

"Great, just great, now I've smeared dirt all over my shirt. "That's okay," I tell myself. I've got a tide pen in my purse. When I get to the store's parking lot, I pull the pen out of my purse and began tapping it on the dirt marks. Nothing is happening.

Well, that's not exactly true. Something is happening. The dirt is streaking more and now I have big wet spots to go with the streaks. "That's okay, no big deal, it'll come off in the wash," I tell myself adding a swear word (or two).

I drive home telling myself I need to be busy to keep my mind off the screwy day I've had. So I decide now is a good time to start cleaning the house. We've been busy for the past several weekends and the house hasn't been cleaned. With a three-day holiday approaching it will be nice to have a spotless house to kick back and relax in.

A few hours later, I get a call from my daughter in Highland. She and her husband are going to Bloomington over the weekend to visit her sister. Will I watch the grandkids? "Will I watch the grandkids? What kind of question is that? Of course I will," I say.

Then she mentions it involves overnight and all day. "Doesn't matter, you know I will take them," I say.

After I hang up I sigh a little as I look around my nearly spotless house that in a few hours will look like a tornado hit it. "It's okay," I tell myself. "It's worth the mess to spend some time with my three favorite kids, and Bo and Grampy will be here to help.

About a half hour later, my son pops his head in the room and says, "Oh, hey mom. I'm going with Jason and Krissy to Keely and Kyles in Bloomington. My Nintendo isn't working so be sure to tell Matt (grandson) he won't be able to play."

"Great, just great," I say. "I was counting on that stupid machine to entertain Matt. But, that's okay, we'll just find something else he likes to play," I say.

The little kids come, the big kids leave and I have a six- and three-year old looking at me as I hold the baby saying, "Nana, it's hot in here. Can you turn down the air?" Hmm, the air is on," I think to myself.

I check the thermostat. It's on 68 degrees. That's pretty low. But, it does seem warm in here. I check the temperature gauge. Its 83 degrees. The fan is running but there is no cold air coming out.

"Terrific, it's the fourth of July and the air is out," I mutter as I look around for fans to turn on. I think to myself, "its good I bought that cute little sprinkler toy for the kids to play in.

"Let's get your bathing suits on and go play in the sprinkler," I tell them. Matthew, my very wise six-year-old walks to the window and pulls aside the curtain.

"Nana, it's raining. It rained all the way here in the car. Didn't you notice? You should have because the windows in your car are down."

Oy vey, Jared Jernagan's got nothing on this old lady.