Oh The Humidity!

Cherub's curls in the humidity. Ain't they sweet?

I'll start this by telling you that Fixit and I both have back problems. I have a slight scoliosis and just general pain and tension caused and compounded by wrangling/nursing babies for the last 5 years, and Fixit's back is basically stuffed from his big motorbike accident which was 10+ years ago. Last year we both started seeing Frank, who is a wonderful chiropractor, a family friend and the nicest man. I have a weekly appointment, Fixit goes twice weekly and we've both improved so much. I never thought I'd hear myself say stuff like this, but it is such a good thing to be able to turn my head to look over my shoulder again. If you're younger than 30, shut-up. Or enjoy it while you still can.

Anyway, what with Christmas and going to the beach for the weekend, it has been nearly a month since my last treatment so I was really looking forward to this morning's appointment. Fixit had to work so we were tag-teaming appointments and childminding via a nearby park; he left early and then I hauled myself and the kids into the car, minutes to spare. We made it maybe 10 metres down the road. The poor car limped out of the driveway and even I noticed it was handling like a dog, and I got out to look and there it was. FLAT TYRE. I nearly cried.

The pathetic thing is that it may have been flat-tish for a while, but I'm so unattuned to this stuff that I'll notice in an abstracted sense that something is wrong with the car, and maybe check to see if the overdrive has been switched on by small hands or if I'm in 2 instead of D ... and when I see that neither is the case I'll think well that's allright then and put aside the fact that the car is still handling like a dog and keep driving. If Fixit reads this he will sigh and shake his head (possibly you may be doing the same) and say This is why I worry, even though my driving record is not besmirched with any sins or accidents *touches wood* and his is.

Here's a thing. Yesterday, Climber and I had a discussion about how many wheels a car has; he said 5 counting the steering wheel. I said I'd show him the Secret Wheel, and did an educational explanation of flat tyres. Then I lifted the hatch, preparing to unveil the Secret Wheel and couldn't work out how to unveil it because there was carpet (which lifted) and then heavy cardboard (which wouldn't budge), so then in complete anticlimax I had to say well there is a Secret Wheel under there, but I can't show it to you at the moment.
YESTERDAY!!

One of the first things my father did when I bought my first car at age 17 was teach me how to change a tyre. I've done it a couple of times and it's not that hard, except the muscles bit. (My legs are strong but I never, ever win an arm-wrestle). Living with Fixit means my DIY muscles have atrophied. Why keep a dog and bark yourself, you know? And I already knew I couldn't lift the stupid cardboard, let alone do all the "find the jack, get the wheel-nuts off" ... I re-scheduled the appointment for the afternoon and poor Fixit raced home from a crappy day at work to change the tyre. I should probably mention here that he was also severely hungover from carousing on Friday night. At which point he discovers that the Secret Wheel spare tyre is flat. So he has to grab the foot pump and pump it up. I'm too old for this, he mutters.


At last, the tyre looks drive-able and although I don't have time to go via a service station to put the required psi into it, it looks like I'll make the re-scheduled appointment. But first we have to go through the pantomime of me backing the car up our very narrow driveway. I hate reversing, it makes me tense. Fixit starts saying unintelligible things to me about left hand down, which confuses me because I am driving one-handed and one of my hands is already at the bottom of the steering wheel so what the fuck does he mean? So then I lift my left hand in the air so he can see it through the windscreen and demonstrate what I think he means. Like this? I ask, turning my left hand anti-clockwise from top to bottom. He rolls his eyes and nods at me. Right hand down he says. What? Like this?

That was my day. I made it to the appointment and I feel MUCH better now, thanks for asking. But after such a heavy duty start, I think it only right that I take the night off from cooking, and as I type this our Vietnamese delivery has just arrived and I am about to pour my second glass of wine.

Here is what the Climber can get up to if you take your eyes off him for a minute.

Does he look worryingly at home on that motorcycle or what?