A miracle has occurred. They fixed my car.
You know how you take the car in for them to fix that funny sound it makes sometimes, and then the car behaves perfectly normally when you get to the repair place? This was my likely destiny.
Monday: Drive my car half hour to the repair place.
Tuesday, surprise:" We can't find anything wrong with your car."
Wednesday: "Can you come in and show us where the sound is coming from?" [Of Course this is a very busy day already.]
So I get to the repair place, jump in my lovely car and start driving, expecting to hear nothing wrong. But apparently the universe owed me one, because the sound started right up. "Oh, THAT sound..."
Turns out it was a broken rod in a rear window, which would eventually have caused the glass to fall into the door, either before or after the noise caused me to tear all my hair out.
So they fixed it. I brought her back home. All is well.
*******
photo by ny156uk
4 comments:
Whew!
Showing them the rattle is like going to the doctor. When he asks how you are, you brightly say, "Fine!" and later you realize you didn't think to tell him all the stuff that was bothering you.
Nice Mom :)
Thanks for stopping by. Did I tell you I ate my vegetables today?
I hate when cars do that. I love when I find the car fixer-upper who can immediately not only tell me what's wrong, but fix it.
Like the body shop guy who found the scuff mark on the right side mirror where the school bus thunked my car as it made a right turn this week.
Left turns only. Works best for life, for politics....
car repairmen often have nice arms, and shoulders prolly too. I wish there was something wrong with my car.
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