We were only trying to get to the beach. It’ll be relaxing was what my dad had said.  Yeah, right. So I slowly got ready, packing my bag as though I had all the time in the world. Once I finally had finished and could procrastinate no longer, I walked downstairs to my angry dad and stepmom, Meghan. My dad walked into the garage, leaving Meghan and I to follow. We entered the car and immediately my dad backed angrily out of the garage. Only in his haste, he failed to notice the car was parked at an angle, so he backed out diagonally, smashing the side mirror. He ignored it, continuing on his way. After a little while, a dinging noise started, piercing the tense silence in the car. My dad just ignored it.
“Honey, maybe we should stop and make sure the car is safe to drive.” Meghan said carefully. My dad sighed and slowly pulled off the road. He got out, and a few minutes later he returned even more annoyed than before. He sighed deeply again and simply said,
“We have a flat tire.”
“Well… what are we going to do?” I asked.
“We’re just going to drive until we reach a gas station to find an air pump for the tire.”
My dad restarted the car and drove on. There were no gas stations in sight, and finally 45 minutes later we arrived at the beach. Only there was nowhere to park. My dad had finally been pushed to the limit and snapped.
“You know what, never mind! We are just going home, seeing as no one wanted to be here anyway!”
My dad jammed the car into reverse out of the parking lot, and then sped back towards our house. All of a sudden there was a loud “POP!” and the car slowly rolled to a stop.
“Looks like the tire gave out. The car must be really done now, too.” I joked.
My dad sighed, resigning himself to the fact that the day was just one of those days where nothing would happen in his favor.