a tale to make dad's proud

House Mate [not that kind of housemate, i'd tell ya she was] and I dutifully did everything our dads taught us how to do. we tried pliers, wrenches, asked directions from the guys at the auto place where the new battery was purchased, pulled out both sets of dad-approved tools and even used coco-cola to break down the corrossion on the battery bolt. we couldn't get the damn thing to move. hours later, dinner made, eaten cold, we tried again.

and then we called it quits. we'd done everything we knew how [including putting the car in neutral and pushing it back and forth over the ice ruts into the safety of the garage, where the car died just before entering to park]. i made brownies for the lovely man who helped us pick up the back end to get it over the last ice hump.

HM's dad lives in the burbs. he came out after work and brought a connector to replace the corroded bolt end. "you think this will do it?" [you're asking me? i'm a nurse, not a mechanic.]

there is a mixed emotion of joy, pride and oh-shit at the end of this story.

the battery could not be removed by the dad. the girls did everything correctly, they tried everything the dad tried, they even tried coca-cola. there was no switch they overlooked or button they forgot to press. the car needed a car doctor. we felt good that we did what we were supposed to do.

odd to feel so redeemed when something is so broken.

at any rate. love to you.