Girl-Card

When I was a little girl, I was the boy my father never had. I was always the one helping him work on the cars, fetching tools and holding the flashlight. Somewhere along the way, I developed the notion that I could do anything. If Daddy could do it, surely I could. I’m much smarter and much prettier than that man. :)

No really…

Yesterday, Hubs noticed my tire was flat before he left for work. He kindly aired it up and promised to look at it that evening. I made it to work just fine, but when I got out of the car I realized the tire was making a strong hissing sound. Not a good sign. Seems I had run over a bolt at some point.

So I asked one of the strapping young heterosexual men at my office to change the tire. And I figured out the strangest thing… not everyone knows the most basic car tasks.

This young man couldn’t figure out how the jack worked. I just kept watching him fumble with it while I played my I’m-only-a-girl-and-I-don’t-know-how-to-do-this-stuff routine. After a while, I kindly suggested how he might do it.

Then, he was putting the jack in the wrong place. Really? I was stuck between still wanting to play my Girl-Card and being terrified that he was going to damage my car! So, I got out the book to look for suggestions… because I don’t know anything, remember?

Well, he fumbled with several other aspects of changing this tire. It was almost comical. I was sorry I asked him.

So, thanks Daddy, for letting me help you all those years. This young man apparently did not have the same experience. But it’s nice to know that if I had to, I could change a tire... and could probably figure out how to fix the transmission.

Of course, being a girl, I choose not to do these things. That’s one of the reasons I married Hubs, he can do these things just fine. Besides, if I started doing them now, I’d always be expected to do them. I don’t think so. I’ll hold onto my Girl-Card for a little longer.