Brady and I Changed his First Flat Tire

I keep my cellphone on vibrate most of the time, so I didn't get Brady's text that he had a flat tire. Rob finally reached me a while later, and since he was out of town, I donned my "rescue persona" - a mix of "I'm coming to help you, honey!" and "Dangnabit, I'm not in the mood for this" - and headed out, after changing into clothes I didn't mind getting dirty. Brady's never changed a flat before, so I had visions of me doing most of it, teaching my boy how it's done, getting my hands dirty.

So this is where I think I'm still needed. "Here, let me show you how to do the jack."

"I know how to do the jack, Mom."

"Well, maybe I should make sure it doesn't slip."

"It won't slip, Mom."

"The last time I tried to change a tire, I couldn't get the lug nuts off so I had to get help. But for the record, I KNOW how to change a tire. Don't think I play 'helpless female' because I don't."

"Ok, Mom."

Brady's friend, Joe Convoulsion Bubenzer, smiles nervously.

"See? Those lug nuts are a b*tch to get off, aren't they? We might need help."

"I'll get it, Mom."

"I wonder if there's a service station nearby?"

"Mom, I'll GET it."

"Wow, you got it. How do you know how to change a tire anyway?"

"I watched Dad once."

"Need me to get anything for you?"

"Nope."

Ho hum... la dee dah.... *twiddles thumbs*...

"I'll put the flat in the trunk for you."

"Ok, Mom, you do that."

So I did.

"Why did I drive all the way up here?"

"Because I didn't have a jack."

So I WAS needed after all.

Nicely done, Brady, nicely done.