fixing tires on cars with boys

Noah called me from the church last night. He and Kaylie were there for the mid-week kids’ club that he was helping with and Kaylie was attending. He said that the left rear tire was completely and totally flat. Awesome. Kaylie got a ride home with a friend while Noah got CAA to put our spare on. Upon closer inspection, there was a screw in our tire. Perfect.

We dropped the flat off at Kal Tire (did you know that they do free flat repairs? they do!) on the way home from (an ultrasound/fetal assessment at) the hospital this morning. When Noah went to pick it up early this afternoon, they didn’t have time to actually put it on the car.

So. He did it himself.

For anyone that knows Noah well, that statement will fill them with shock and awe. He got his hands dirty by fixing something on a car. He corrects the play-by-play guys on TV because he knows his sports better than anyone on the planet, but a fix-it guy he is not. It’s genetic.

I grew up with a mechanic for a dad, and although I don’t know a lot about cars, I know the basics. Like how to drive a standard and how to put in gas and washer fluid and oil. And how to change a flat.

(Here is where I don’t tell you that I taught him how to put washer fluid in during the first year we were married.) (Or how I taught him to put oil in a couple months ago.) (And here’s where he tells you something embarrassing about me, except this is my blog.)

(Yes, our car is diiiirty, but that’s because it’s spriiiiiiiiiiing!)

Noah and I headed out to the garage so he could put the fixed tire/wheel back on. He had the jack and the tire iron out already, but pointed to the jack crank handle thing (I said I know how to do it, not what everything is called) and said that we probably didn’t need that, right? Uh. Not exactly.

I showed him where to put the jack

and soon the car was … jacked?

He’s got a goofy grin on his face because I was making fun of him. He has to put up with a lot being married to me, you should feel sorry for him. (Seriously.)

He was having a hard time getting the bolts off so I showed him a cool trick. Use your foot. (Except I didn’t actually show him because I cannot get my leg to lift my foot high enough to step on the tire iron. Pregnancy has made me weak.)

For some reason I failed to take an “after” photo, but I think I was distracted by the fact that I’d asked him to put the hub cap back on right after telling him we’d have to tighten the bolts after driving it for a bit. Not very bright am I. I’m blaming the baby.

It doesn’t bother me that he’s not a fix-it guy. “Can Fix Things” was nowhere on my Qualities My Husband Must Possess list. But, he’s learned a lot in the … seven? when was 2004? years I’ve known him.

Oh, and hey dad, when you guys come visit next, can you teach him how to do an oil change?

Filed under: Noah