I am empowered!
But let me start at the beginning. I came out of my office at the end of the work day and walked to my car in the parking lot. Oh, no! A flat tire! My husband, the car guy, was out of town. Wringing my hands, I didn’t know what to do. So I called my daughter, who came and said, “Let’s just change the tire, Mom. We can do this.”
“OK,” I said hesitantly. We walked over to the car, popped the trunk, removed the jack, wrench and space-saver tire and set to work.
“I think we’re supposed to loosen the lug nuts before we jack the car up,” my daughter told me, straining to loosen the bolts. “Damn, these are tight!”
“Here, let me,” I said, hefting the wrench and getting them free. Smiling, I said, “See, it just takes a little elbow grease.”
We put the jack under the car and began cranking it up. Just before we got it to the right height, the car rolled forward over the jack and fell with a thunk.
“Why don’t we try putting on the parking brake?” my daughter said in what I thought was a decidedly snippy tone.
“I never use the parking brake.”
She looked me straight in the eye. “Humor me.”
We got the car up solidly this time, removed the nuts and took off the sorry-looking flat tire. Then it was time to put on the spare. Which way did it go? I figured the side with the thingy to air it up must be to the outside. So we hefted it up. It fit. Wow, that was easy.
I began to put the bolts back on. “I’ve got a natural flair for mechanical things,” I said, tightening up the bolts.
“Mom, you’ve got them on backward.”
“I was just checking to see if you were paying attention, “ I snorted.
There! The tire was back on.
“Don’t you feel empowered?” my daughter asked.
“Yes!” I agreed. “And now the mystique is gone. I’ve been driving for 35 years and never changed a tire. I rule.”
We put the stuff back into the trunk, dusted ourselves off.
“Life’s short. Let’s go get some ice cream,” I said.
So we did.
