The dirt cloud was still clearing from the weekend, when at our house, back-to-school morning for our BGSU boy meant bringing along a gallon of water for his radiator (With a good attitude, nice job Mitch!). Yep, it's that time of year for cars again. But really, what am I talking about, it's always that time of year.
Car maintenance with our fleet of six vehicles is like health care for a 99 year old on life support. Well, maybe a little better.
But not much.
I enjoy laughing about it, obviously. I find it way more fun than crying which I've also tried. It doesn't get results.
Dave and one his best bud mechanic friends, Storm, do most of the back yard repair, bless their weeping souls.
One time we had a free coupon at Tuffy that we'd bought at a fund raising auction. Okay so it wasn't really free, it was cheap - which makes me a cheapskate because of the fundraising thing, but no one else was bidding on that basket of stuff.
When I went in for my 'free' oil change and slid that little coupon across the counter, the mechanic came out from under my car with one of those computer print outs that the diagnostic machine spits out (maybe not quite as I'm painting it but you get the picture). My report was a couple pages long. The guy gently tried to break the news to me that the repairs my car really needed exceeded the street value of my car by $1,000 at best. I just smiled at him kindly and grabbed that jewel of a document for my blog folder.
But I forgot to tell you the funny part.
When I called Tuffy to set up that appointment a few days earlier I was in the middle of a few things. Some e-mail just chimed in and the cat jumped up on my desk and was being really funny. I started talking in the voice we have for the cat. He was saying something hilarious as I recall and totally entertaining me (I should not be a ventriloquist, I would get very confused).
Then I remembered that I had dialed Tuffy.
Gasp! I put the phone to my ear hoping to hear a busy signal (if you don't know what this is look it up on YouTube) rather than a human being. Worse. I had just left a message talking like a cat, for a cat, to men who use impact wrenches.
I hung up before they could hear my real voice.
Next morning, I called back on a cell phone hoping to God that they didn't have caller ID.
I love that life's hardships also bring laughter and joy along the way, strangely, and of course volumes of story fodder as well. It reminds me of Joseph, what the enemy meant for evil, God used for good. Yep, the good stuff.