pain at the pump

all good things must come to an end. as always, the beach was wonderful -- great weather, great sunsets, great food, great kids. we had such a fun weekend and were feeling so blessed. and then we drove home. everything was fine for the first half of the trip. there was definitely more traffic than we're used to, but we had expected it since it was sunday of a summer holiday weekend. but then we started seeing brake lights, and before we knew it, we were at a standstill on I-40. and as soon as we started inching along again, the monsoon hit. and then our "low fuel" light came on. and then the kids started getting hungry. we were three hours into a trip that normally takes us a little over two, with no end in sight. so, instead of arriving home in time for dinner with gas to spare, we found ourselves at a joint gas station/wendy's in need of both. chris started filling the tank, and while it was pumping, dashed through the downpour to go grab the kids some chicken nuggets. feeling ever so helpful, i crawled over to the driver's seat so that he could relax the rest of the way home. i'm such a good wife. my poor husband finally returned, armed with snacks and dripping from head to toe all over the passenger seat. after i had driven about ten feet, the largest BOOM i've ever heard forced me to slam on the brakes. as i pondered how close the storm must be to cause such loud thunder, chris whipped his head towards the back of the car, whipped it back to me, and said, "did you forget to take the gas hose out of the car?!" oops.