I Broked It.

On Wednesday night, Chris, Bean, and I headed up to the grocery store because the only options we had for dinner were a can of chicken and two slices of cheese.  When we pulled out of the driveway, we noticed a small river had formed under my car and was now running out of our garage and into the driveway.

“Well, that’s not good,” I said.

Something was leaking and pouring out of my car so we spent the rest of the evening looking for the leak.

I hate watching Chris work on our car. I always think to myself, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing…” but then I remember that he went to grad school at Yale for automation – which is basically building machines – and so if he can make things fly and move and spin and turn with machines, then he can probably tinker with my car.

He gave me a very important job. I was supposed to sit on the floor with a flashlight and watch for where the liquid was leaking from. Being the round pregnant woman that I am, anytime I get close to the sitting position these days, I accidentally roll over and find myself laying down. Which is usually followed by finding myself asleep.

It just happens. I can’t help it.

So, I rolled over onto the mats on the garage floor and laid there with my flashlight looking for a leak until I got bored. Which was approximately 3.6 seconds. Then I went inside and had a sandwich while Chris finished working on the car.

When he came inside, he announced that it was a leak in my radiator. Since both of us had to go to work the next day, we decided we’d take the car to a mechanic the next afternoon, which meant one of us had to drive the car to work on Thursday. I immediately insisted on doing it. One, because I love my car and hate driving Chris’. Two, because Chris was going to be a guest lecturer at the University of Central Florida on Thursday and I didn’t want him to miss it because he was broken down somewhere.

Reluctantly, Chris agreed to let me drive the car, but he gave me a few instructions. First, I had to watch the temperature of the car on the way to work and if it started to get hot, I had to pull over somewhere and add water. Second, after work I had to remember to add water to the engine BEFORE I started driving home.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said.

And so Chris shook his head at my impatience and handed me a 2-liter bottle he had filled with water.

So, in the morning I drive to work. Only, I’m not even out of our neighborhood yet when the engine stars smoking. I proceed to freak out and then call Chris. When I turned the car around and went home, it turned out that it wasn’t smoke. It was just steam from the water we had poured into the engine burning off. So, I drive to work.

And on my way to work I get irritated at Chris.

“This is so typical of him to take something small and stupid and turn it into a big deal. Now he’s got me freaking out over steam! Seriously, how big of a hole could I really have? My car’s still running, isn’t it?!?!”

And with that, I pulled into my parking lot at work and promptly forgot about my car troubles.

That afternoon when I got into my car, I saw the 2-liter of water sitting on my passenger seat and I remembered that Chris had said something about adding water. But it was the end of a day and the beginning of my three-day weekend and I didn’t want to waste any time getting home. I decided to drive to Bean’s daycare (which was really close by) and if the car got hot on that drive, then I’d add water there. And, whaddyaknow? It didn’t get hot on the drive there! Just further proof that Chris was overreacting. So, I pick up Bean and we head home.

And that’s when my car got hot. Really, really hot. And started smoking. Not steaming, SMOKING.

Turns out, I done broked our car.

I got an earful from Chris as I sat there in the parking lot of the strip mall I had pulled into and then he said I had to sit there for 15 or 20 minutes until the engine cooled off a bit. Which was all fine and good because, conveniently, we were in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and one of my all-time favorite ways to keep myself occupied involves eating donuts. Unfortunately though, it was about this time that I realized that I smelled something. And not something burning. Something a bit more…familiar…a bit more…Bean-like.

And wouldn’t you know it, I had not one diaper with me. Not a one.

I’m firmly convinced Chris removed all diapers from the car as punishment for me not listening to him give me instructions on taking care of the car. I think he knew that I would inevitably break down and that at that exact moment in time, Bean would fill his diaper and I’d be stuck in a hot car with no AC and a potent baby.

He’s tricky like that.

Anyway, as luck would have it, my mom was in the area that afternoon on her way to have dinner with us and so she came to our rescue and brought us home. After dinner, Chris and I went back to get the car that was now cool and we drove it home safely last night. Today we’re taking it to a mechanic and we’re crossing our fingers it’s just a small part that has to be replaced. Regardless, I’ve learned my lesson.

“And what lesson did you learn, Katie?” Chris asked.

“To always keep diapers in the car.”

“Not that one…” said Chris.

“Oh, then to always follow Chris’ instructions when it comes to car trouble.”

“Thank you,” said Chris.

“But more importantly, to always keep diapers in the car.”

And that’s when Chris went out to the back porch with a cold beer and told me to leave him alone for 15 minutes…