My Daughter, the Mechanic

OK, my daughter is not really a mechanic, but when you function as one, and meet with historic results, you must be a mechanic. It’s sort of like if it walks like a duck…etc.

I had been scooting around the last year in my new car, feeling quite smug about how well it was doing. The instincts were there with the purchase, and everything was great except for my new $300 headlight, but sometimes stuff happens.

It is also quite speedy, and takes off like a bat out of hell when it needs  to. However lately, between you and me, something was wrong.

In the “old days”, I would have checked out the linkage between the gas and the carburetor, because we had carburetors! Now, not so, so I didn’t even bother to look. It costs about $70 to get the computer to tell me what’s wrong and so much more to fix it so I was shy about asking.

I kept noticing I could not easily get up to speed, and passing was becoming hard. I had to floor it but was meeting spongy pressure. I kept it all bottled up inside of me rather than admit maybe I had a serious (money) problem to deal with.

My youngest daughter has been home for Reading Week, and the car has been running just fine. I guessed it just magically got better somehow. The other day, while taking her somewhere as I needed my car, she said,”I don’t know how you were riding around with the floor mat stuffed under the gas pedal like that!”

Thus, my daughter the mechanic was born!