OH NO! DID I POP THE TIRES AGAIN?

Yesterday was a busy day in the Lemonaid household.  After popping two advils to remedy the abuse from the night before, picking up the kids from their respective sleepovers, making an appearance at the T-ball game, and wolfing down my daily breakfast of champions (egg beaters southwestern style), I was dressed and ready to show property in picturesque Calabasas, California.  Loaded up in the flex were clients “Barbie” and “Ken.” Gated community central, we began our search by loading up on caffeine at the local Starbucks in The Commons.  No need to describe The Commons, just imagine it is where the hot ladies of Wisteria Lane type neighborhoods come and hold court.  Oh yeah, and this would be a good time to add that a new reality show titled “The Gates” will be hitting our TV screens is no time.  Move over The Hills, there are some new bitches and M.I.L.F.S in town, my TIVO is teed up and ready to record….  As we bopped from community to community, we became quickly educated on which of the communities would be better for Barbie and Ken to set up shop.  Luckily, the passengers in my Flex and I go way back in time… My flawless driving suddenly experienced a hiccup as I slammed into the center median on Parkway Calabasas. I was able to react instead of maintaining my cool.  As my hands shook and my lip gloss quickly became parched on my lips, I got out of the car to survey the damage.  My biggest fear was NOT realized as my tires remain puffed up and full of air and there was not a paint scratch on my menacing grill.  Tire popping (on accident) has happened to me many times over the years and Husband makes me drive all the way downtown to a more “affordable” tire stocker to purchase a new set.  Confidence restored, I patted my Lady Gaga platinum bangs, turned my head, and asked Barbie and Ken if they would be all cash buyers?