Our friends Rick and Patsy have been (for reasons I probably once knew but now no longer remember) riding around with one of those little spare tires on their car for a bit now. When Patsy read my list yesterday (over biscotti), she volunteered their services, and they consented to ride around with said spare tire for one full additional day in order to give me time to get over there and change it under Rick's tutelage. He's an excellent teacher. Also, "tutelage" is an excellent word.
Joy came with me to take pictures. She was very serious about the job and took a total of 45 photos. (I'm giggling as I type this.) It was like a red carpet event, except instead of a stunning gown I was wearing my gym clothes as she hopped around saying things like, "Can you get closer to the tire?" "Oh, that's perfect." "OK, now pretend you're doing that thing with the wrench again!" "How do I turn the camera off?"
I love that girl.
It was FUN. I don't know why...being with good friends and having your daughter imitate paparazzi is apparently a recipe for a good time even when you're changing a tire. I could cheerfully hyper-narrate every step, but I'll spare you that and just show you a few pics.
Breaking the lug nuts. Apparently this means loosening them slightly. Seems like an odd word choice...so odd, in fact, that I just now geeked out and looked up the term online to be sure. In that effort I found a DIY message board with a post that featured the following sentence: "Using the nuts, tighten the studs until all the serrations (grooves)are not visible and the stud's flange is flush with the hub."
Um...ok. Clearly this is a language I do not speak.
Jacking up the car. (Did you think the title of this post referred to my third-born? I'm not promising it won't reappear.) Lesson learned here: jacking up the car can lead to jacked-up, pavement-scraped knuckles. Noted.
Here Rick was very sensibly trying to stop me from putting the greasy lug nuts in the pocket of my off-white sweatshirt. Dur.
I asked him to let me do the whole thing, though he would clearly have preferred to do the heavy lifting for me. Very chivalrous, though in reality slinging a tire around is nothing compared to having to haul a screaming, writhing three-year-old through a crowded retail establishment. From the back of the store to the front. To the car. While pushing a stroller with the other hand. I'm just saying.
Yesterday Patsy asked me not to post the pic I took of her with her tea. She neglected to make this one off-limits. Heh heh.
The random candle and motor oil being used as props in that last shot were happy discoveries from the trunk of their car when we put the spare back. They feel appropriate, though, because there was a certain happy randomness to the whole event. At one point Rick laughed and said he'll need to explain to his neighbors why he was standing there supervising while this woman changed his tire...this woman who has (and I may be botching this) "strange ideas about what the abundant life looks like."
But really, it's true. I mean, it's a tire. I don't want to overspiritualize it. But today I didn't just settle into the sometimes mind-numbing routine of afternoon snacks, homework, and managing the whining and the TV watching. I did something random and fun that will make me feel more confident while I'm driving and less helpless in general. I pushed my comfort zone a tiny bit, and I did it with some of my favorite people.
That has to be a good thing, right?
Anyhow, if you find yourself with a flat, I'm your girl. :)
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