A Disgrace to my Gender
I'd like to say that this is one of those hip, ultra-modern, no-stereotyped-gender-roles type households. I'd like to, but I can't. We don't try to mimic an episode of Leave it to Beaver or anything - my husband helps with housework, Eve loves math and plays baseball, Angus has been known to scrapbook, and I can drink my husband under the table. BUT I do the vast majority of the cooking and day-to-day tidying. I do my best not to sully my lily white hands by carrying out the garbage, I'm helpless with anything involving plumbing, and bad things happen when I get hold of an allen key, so I don't put together a lot of furniture. I'm a stay-at-home MOM, for frick's sake. And while my husband isn't a neanderthal or a 'I earn the money, you take care of everything else' jackass, he likes his sports and he can be utterly defeated by the vagaries of a washing machine.
Along these lines, I haven't taken a lot of responsibility for vehicle maintenance. Matt would just take whichever thing needed servicing, drop it off and then take the shuttle to work. At some point, he would pick me up and we would go get the other vehicle and tag-team drive them home.
When we bought the minivan last summer, I said that I should start taking it in, and he said he would be glad to hand over that responsibility. However, the first time it had to go in, I was in the middle of a medication switch and I didn't really feel like myself, so to spare me the added anxiety he took it in yet again. Today was my maiden voyage into the big bad world of Car Servicing.
I was determined not to be a stereotypical woman who is clueless and giggly and doesn't know anything about cars and gets taken advantage of. I'm not sure how I thought I would escape this, though, since, regarding internal combustion engines and the like, I AM clueless. And I do tend to giggle when I get nervous. Fortunately, there was little opportunity for any advantage being taken, since all I needed was an oil change which is still covered under our extended warranty. Furthermore, the guy at the desk could not have been nicer (at least one of us dodged the stereotype), so even if there was a problem I might not have left with a new everything-under-the-hood. But yeah, it was bad. I approached the desk and within ten seconds we'd established that I'd parked in the wrong place, and when he asked me if we'd bought the vehicle at this location I had to say "Uh, I think so.... I wasn't actually....there." He said "Oh dear." Then he said "Oh, I didn't mean to say that." I could have said, look, we discussed it at length and we already knew which one we were getting, and the salesman was someone we knew from our son's school, it's not like I waved good-bye to my husband and said have a nice day dear and why don't you pick up a new car on the way home.... but there didn't seem to be much point.
Oh well. The oil got changed, Pam and I went to Costco while we waited (so I guess maybe it did cost me more than it should have after all) and all my husband has to know is that I successfully navigated my first oil change. It's not like he reads my blog. I don't think. Plus, I have a bunch of muffins the size of my head to console myself with. I'm calling it a win.
Along these lines, I haven't taken a lot of responsibility for vehicle maintenance. Matt would just take whichever thing needed servicing, drop it off and then take the shuttle to work. At some point, he would pick me up and we would go get the other vehicle and tag-team drive them home.
When we bought the minivan last summer, I said that I should start taking it in, and he said he would be glad to hand over that responsibility. However, the first time it had to go in, I was in the middle of a medication switch and I didn't really feel like myself, so to spare me the added anxiety he took it in yet again. Today was my maiden voyage into the big bad world of Car Servicing.
I was determined not to be a stereotypical woman who is clueless and giggly and doesn't know anything about cars and gets taken advantage of. I'm not sure how I thought I would escape this, though, since, regarding internal combustion engines and the like, I AM clueless. And I do tend to giggle when I get nervous. Fortunately, there was little opportunity for any advantage being taken, since all I needed was an oil change which is still covered under our extended warranty. Furthermore, the guy at the desk could not have been nicer (at least one of us dodged the stereotype), so even if there was a problem I might not have left with a new everything-under-the-hood. But yeah, it was bad. I approached the desk and within ten seconds we'd established that I'd parked in the wrong place, and when he asked me if we'd bought the vehicle at this location I had to say "Uh, I think so.... I wasn't actually....there." He said "Oh dear." Then he said "Oh, I didn't mean to say that." I could have said, look, we discussed it at length and we already knew which one we were getting, and the salesman was someone we knew from our son's school, it's not like I waved good-bye to my husband and said have a nice day dear and why don't you pick up a new car on the way home.... but there didn't seem to be much point.
Oh well. The oil got changed, Pam and I went to Costco while we waited (so I guess maybe it did cost me more than it should have after all) and all my husband has to know is that I successfully navigated my first oil change. It's not like he reads my blog. I don't think. Plus, I have a bunch of muffins the size of my head to console myself with. I'm calling it a win.
Comments
p.s. I came over from Swistle after the discussion about comments made me decide to find some new blogs to read.
Not sure why I share this story. Perhaps because I felt like an idiot. There you go. You don't own idiocy. I have some too!
But I can put gas in the car...that's pretty good. Right?
But I can put gas in the car...that's pretty good. Right?