A Fun Filled Afternoon...

I don't know a lot about cars. I took auto shop in high school, mostly because the teacher was pretty cute. I learned to change a tire and change my oil, but beyond that I am useless. I can't even fake interest in the inner workings of a car. My husband is pretty handy in that area, and does a lot of our own repairs on the cars. He has changed out steering racks, water pumps, breaks, clutches and does the routine maintenance. He enjoys it but has a habit of talking to me about said inner workings of the car. I just try hard not to look too bored. I am only really annoyed put out involved when he needs me to help him hold something, or turn the wheel/give it gas while he checks. I was about 6 months pregnant with Aubrey when he had to change out the steering rack on his car. He needed help holding something and I was the only one around. Imagine a fat, pregnant woman underneath a car, with her huge belly and swollen ankles sticking out (I could only get under there so far), cussing her husband for having to be there. I got transmission fluid in my hair, which is not easy to get out I might add (I was greasy for at least a week), and I got stuck at least once. I was not amused. Again, no enthusiasm when it comes to car repair. That being said, my car has been acting up lately. I cussed it and cursed it and then realized that for 9 years old, and 137,000+ miles on it, it has been a pretty good car. So far...

Anyway, it was making some horrible racket, and the floor vibrated so much that I thought the front end was about to cave in. It was also leaking some fluid or something from the inner workings area. Brian drove it around and did his diagnosis on it, and then I took it to the shop. He was pretty much right on; it needed a new water pump and engine mount which apparently is not something he felt like he could do on my car in a timely manner. I tried really hard not to be that stereo-typical woman who takes her car in and sounds like an idiot describing what the problem is to the mechanic. I refrained from imitating the noises my car was making, even though I thought I had them down pretty good. I thought I sounded fairly knowledgeable and tried to remember what my husband told me to say. And then I used the word 'thingy'. And the mechanic smirked. Ah well...

So while the car was being fixed, the kids and I spent three fun filled hours playing with the dirty broken toys and reading the dirty ripped books they had in the dirty playroom. But we had popcorn and cappuccino (for me), so not all was lost. And the kids got to ride in this nifty rocket. It was almost like a day at the amusement park really. I can't wait to go back...