Sometimes you gotta laugh
by Rick Watson
Feb 12, 2012 | 1315 views | 0 0 comments | 9 9 recommendations | email to a friend | print
Rick Watson
Rick Watson
Today was a long day. I could go into details, but I’d probably bore you to tears, much like I did with Jilda on the way home from yoga tonight.

We’d learned this past week when we took her Volvo Ingred in for servicing, that she had a water and oil leak. It’s never a good sign when mechanics start saying things like – “we’ll have to dig a little deeper.” Those situations rarely turn out well for the pocketbook.

While Jilda was working today, the mechanic called back today and said I’ve got good news and bad news (I hate it when my mechanic tries to be a comedian). I took a hit of sweet tea and sat down to receive the news.

He said they’d found the source of the leak, but that I’d probably need to knock off a liquor store or raid my 401k plan to pay for the repairs. Ouch! Sounds like we’ll be eating rice and beans and turnip greens until spring to save up enough money.

Last year when we replaced the transmission in Ingrid, Jilda said she thinks there should be nationalized healthcare for cars. That sounded pretty good to me but my congressman was lukewarm to the idea.

Now where was I? Oh yes — so on the way home tonight I told her we’d need to take Ingrid in next week to have the head gasket replaced.

Jilda was “whupped” but to keep the conversation alive, she asked what replacing the head gasket entailed.

As I drove I went into detail about how they’d have to remove the head and send it to a machine shop where a machinist would carefully shave a little off the surface of the head to make it perfectly smooth. When the part is reinstalled, I told her, the old gal’s engine will be as good as new.

I glanced over and the lights from the dash cast just enough greenish light on her face to make her look like someone who’d just eaten tripe, mayonnaise, crawfish et tu fe, and chased it with buttermilk.

As I droned on about tools, dies and the meticulous work the machinist would have to perform to get the part just right, she yawned.

I’m not talking about one of those quick yawns where she covers her mouth with her hand to keep from being rude, but a yawn so big that you could almost hear her jaws clicking and the muscles in her mouth stretching

To say that she was tuning me out is an understatement. The sound of my words were blowing in through one ear and out the other with little resistance from the brain. If I’d leaned over and blown in her ear, I’m pretty sure it would have whistled.

I said to her, so I guess you’d rather not hear about the fuel system and the hydraulics tonight. She laughed so hard that she snorted, and so did I. We do that sometimes when we’re really tired.