I'm Not Much One to Cry Wolf...

Worst feeling in the world! You're busted!

"You need to get on over here," I urgently told my father about 8:30 pm over the phone. "The weather is going to get very nasty very shortly."

It was medication time! Dad heeded my words and pulled up in front of my house in 20 minutes. He was also the bearer of good news about mom's car.

"Let me line up the front end and then the car is yours," he told me as he sat down on my couch. "It's pulling to the left really badly when you put on the brakes."

"You need to get the brake rotors turned as well," I told my father, the main culprit of the pulling left, and he said he would.

Dad also smelled awful boozy tonight and he was overly jovial -- cutting up and being a regular lark.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" I asked him very worriedly.

I've only had one beers occifer.

"I haven't had that much to drink -- just two glasses of wine," he replied huffily.

Those were my famous last words when I drank until a police cruiser came pulling up behind me with his lights shining brightly in ill omen. Clang went the jail cell doors until the next morning and I would be released.