My husband asked me if I would do him a favor and take the car to the auto fix-it place to get the oil changed. I was happy to help him out.
Once I told the man what I wanted, he asked, "Maam, would you like super-duper or regular?"
Isn't super-duper always better than regular?
"I'll take the super-duper please. "
Five minutes later, "Maam, would you like a new filter?"
He held my filter up for me to see. Icky poo. Caked with gradu on the entire left side. For comparison, he raised a sparkling clean filter and positioned them side by side. I studied them carefully. Of course we needed a nice, bright, new one. He got to work right away.
"Ma'am," he said, interrupting my attempt to send a text message to my husband, to tell him I was doing a good job, taking care of the car. I looked up in annoyance.
"When was the last time you changed your coolant?"
What is coolant?
"I don't know, " I said.
What he held up for me to examine was quite pretty.
"Did that come out of my car?" I asked.
"Yep."
It was a sparkling, clean, plastic container filled with what looked like distilled pink lemonade mixed with water, with rainbow-colored disks, or markers of some sort, lining the left side. I wanted to hang it in my window at home.
"No, thank you," I said.
Too new, too pink. I would not be fooled.
I texted K.C. before heading home.
"Oil changed! I bought everything they recommended, except the coolant. If we need new coolant, you'll have to do it yourself later."
"Oh, no!" he texted back. "Next time I'll take it myself."
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