Hose Head? I think not.

A long time ago, back in the day when I hauled four kids in car seats everywhere I went, I drove a sleak black mini-van.  It was way more cooler than my current van – it had leather and a great sound system, and that thing had the bells and whistles.  I drove around in that thing like a queen.  Queen of what?  Insanity.

One day, it started to sing.  Not in a good way, but in a “oh, I think a belt is about to blow” kind of way.  Said me in my awesome daughter-of-a-mechanic, raised-with-four-boys know-it-all big-girl voice, “I think we need to replace a belt.”  My wonderful husband replied in his loving cheap way, “You have no idea what you are talking about.”  Or maybe he said something like, “I don’t hear anything,”  implying that I am a car dunce.  And so we drove the beautiful luxury mini-van up to Rapids to visit my family over Thanksgiving.

During one of his late-evening Mt Dew runs (this is what the guys used to do to get away from the family – cuz we had 9 kids all about 2 – 5 years old and it was chaos) I got an SOS call from the side of a dark road.  Seems the minivan had called it a day.  “Huh?”  My concern level was so very high.  What I really was thinking, and possibly said was, “Told ya so, ya kuncklehead.”  and probably laughed a lot.  Mostly to myself.  And then probably assumed he let it break down so he and the other men with him could have to call the remaining guys to come rescue them, thus earning more time away from the kids – genius.

Of course, it was Thanksgiving, so we had to work hard to find someone who could fix it – and low and behold, it was a BELT problem.  You know, those darn belts that just go without warning?  Yeah, those belts.  They sneak up on ya every time.

Fast forward just a wee bit to yesterday.  Different van – the stripped down model I drive now – check engine light comes on.   (Sidebar – minivans are never sexy, no matter what.  People aren’t staring at you in an admiring way as you blast your radio ever.  Period.  Go with the stripped down variety – when the juice boxes explode and decorate the ceiling with red perma-stain, you wont care as much.)  I, being the super responsible girl I am, text Bill letting him know that something is wrong.  “Oh, probably just a sensor.” 

“Uh, not my van, I know this thing and something isn’t right.” 

I drove it for a couple days, because I am submissive and never question Bill.  Yesterday, it started to make a noise.  I only could explain the noise to Bill as the sound a vacuum makes when the hose isn’t perfectly hooked up – like air is leaking – and that I was pretty sure one of the hoses had issues.

The van was dropped off at the emergency room, AKA United Automotive, and today, underwent minor outpatient surgery.  Guess what?  A hose had issues. 

I have found my next career.  Car diagnosis girl.  Don’t question me – I don’t even need to charge the diagnosis fee – call it intuition, or maybe it was that time my dad made me watch him change my brakes – I am now a motor head.  I may appear on the next NAPA calendar – July is my month.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Rachelle
    Dec 05, 2012 @ 21:05:02

    Love this one, Deb! I love all of your blogs, but this one I can relate to (again). As I know your upbringing, so I would never second-guess your intuition. 🙂

    Reply

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