Our Holiday CurseI fixed the car today. With a pair of scissors.
OK, what I did was this: I pulled into the underground lot this morning, and while grateful for the security, was still very very pissed that I had to worry about a flyaway gearshift in an unlockable car. So I turned on the interior lights and started looking for a way to take apart the console (I learned to do this while reconditioning cars in a previous life; sooooo not going into that here).
Volvos are very seamless cars, and I could not for the life of me get a handle on the console, and couldn’t go any further without air tools. After staring at the thing for a minute, I rummaged around the car, found a pair of the kids’ scissors in the console, pulled the gear shift all the way back into first, crawled into the space between it and the dash, and stuck the blade in the crevice between the gear release button and the shaft. I waited a beat and pried outward. The angels smiled, the button popped back out, and the key came out of the ignition at last.
I now know to keep those scissors in the car because the whole thing locked up again on me at Safeway at noon. Someday, I’ll tell the story about my old 914, a car theft, and how I had to use a screwdriver and the spark plug wires to alternately start up and disable the car after I got it back.
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My son was in the same room as me when I was getting dressed one day. I scratched the top of my left breast a little and he said, “Mommy, you are touching your —-!”
I said to him, “I just have an itch,” to which he responded, “That’s *your* excuse!”
Jet, 4
Jax: Mommy, here’s a little piece of toilet paper to wipe the tip.
Mommy: The tip of what?
Jax: Your penis.
Jax, 3
After being told to go outside and pick up the dog poop, he goes outside, whines and complains. He comes back in and says, “Mom, I think the dog over-pooped.”
Luke, 8
When I woke up one morning with a sore throat, raspy voice, and fever, my three-year-old, Emilie, asked me what was wrong. I said, “Mama has a cold…” and she felt my cheek for a minute before saying, “No. You has a hot!”
Emilie, 3
Do you know how I memorized 2 x 11? I have this fake pencil in my brain, and it writes down the multiplication!!
Hugo, 6
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02.15.05 at 08:40 AM |
For some reason, that evokes images of sticking a butter knife into a toaster.
02.15.05 at 09:00 AM |
I didn’t you know could give a car a vasectomy. In fact I’d always assumed that your Volvo was female--must be because in my mind I’m always changing the two vowels.
02.15.05 at 09:19 AM |
Way to go MacGyver.
02.15.05 at 09:20 AM |
I’ve seen you with scissors…
02.15.05 at 10:09 AM |
will there be a follow up to this story?
02.15.05 at 10:13 AM |
You are my hero!
02.15.05 at 12:18 PM |
You know… that just makes me HOT!!
02.15.05 at 12:28 PM |
That gave me a good laugh. But I have to know.......was it a hard thrust with the knife or a strong sawing back and forth type of motion?
02.15.05 at 02:01 PM |
I am so impressed! You are an engineer at heart!
Should I be worried that my “secret word” is dead ?
02.15.05 at 03:30 PM |
You are sooo clever.
02.15.05 at 05:14 PM |
one of my first boyfriends, Dough, had an eensie orange Fiat 2-seater ... the driver’s side window was held up with a piece of wood sort of thing. but it was cute, really! anyway, once we were off in a park somewhere trying to open a bottle of wine without a corkscrew--do you see where I’m going with this? the key snapped off in the cork. The only.ignition.key. For a short time, we started the car by popping the clutch; then he rigged up a toggle switch for the ignition, and secured the car by removing the alternator cap. the end. stage ...
02.15.05 at 05:14 PM |
heeeeeeeee, his name was DOUG. he was NOT doughy--he was a runner!
02.15.05 at 06:45 PM |
I’m a runner and I’m doughy…
also..you are my new god. I have no one to pray to anymore anyway so I was really in the market for a new god since selling my soul to the devil about 10yrs after breaking the law and being a total chicken shit about paying the piper.
02.15.05 at 09:49 PM |
Lazarus would be proud of you…
02.16.05 at 04:37 AM |
Mmmmm, dough…
02.16.05 at 11:39 AM |
You know Jill, I didn’t even want to know how he got that nick name! Thank you for setting the record straight!
02.17.05 at 10:31 AM |
Why is it that when you wrote “my old 914” I immediately pictured you with a sooty face wearing mining gear?
You know, they have these things called, “screwdrivers” that might actually work better on those funny pieces of metal with the pretty star designs on top.