Boy Training

I’m covered in grease, lying in the dirt under my sister’s car this morning, first changing out her bottom radiator hose, then installing a new thermostat, neither of which fixed the overheating problem.

I look up at her and ask “Now, don’t you wish you were the one who got the boy training?”

She smiled and said “No, that was you.”

“Yeah,” I replied, thinking about how installing a new tourqueflite by myself was supposed to teach me to be a man. “And it hurt.”

Now it’s time clean up after my father in the yard, and then to cook Mother’s Day dinner.

– – – – – – – – –

Follow Up: The real boys came over to my sister’s house later, determined that the cooling system needed purging, and got her running again. They thought it was good I fixed the hose, but the thermostat was a fool’s errand.

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