Things We Do For Love

One that I love had been neglected. One that I love was now a disgrace. My dear car, the Ford Freestyle that has faithfully carried by family many a mile was in need of love. You see, over the weekend, its upholstery received a vomit coating. Never a good thing. Well, the mess had been cleaned up, but it started me thinking of the other car-related items that needed attention. Now, I was on a mission. A mission to help the one I love, the car I love.

Oil change. No problem. Car wash. You got it. Fix that passenger side mirror that I clipped over a year ago, while backing out of the garage, and had repaired with “Batman” duct tape. That would need some professional attention. I made the appointment for today and dropped my car off in the morning (the mechanic asked if I had clipped it while backing out on the way to the liquor store… nice touch). Such a good Ford owner.

The house was all settled and calm. I did not want to disrupt the child balance of happiness. Only one solution seemed to work to pick up the one I love, hop on a bike and quickly peddle the one and a half miles to the auto shop. Heading to the garage, I remembered that my bike, which was a hand-me-down to start, has never really worked. Solution: take Charlene’s bike. A woman’s bike should be fine for a quick ride. Anything for the one I love.

Planting myself on my wife’s bike I observed two flat tires. Solution: walk bike a half mile to the gas station. No problem. Anything for the one I love.

Filling the tires, I hopped on the bike. Suddenly, I realized that the seat was way too low. Not wanting to ride the whole way with my knees hitting my chin and not wanting to bother with adjusting the seat, I figured I would ride the duration standing up. Anything for the one I love.

Starting to pedal, I became self-conscious, I was not wearing a helmet. Safety issue number one. Continuing to pedal, I realized that I was wearing flip flops, which on every rotation would clip the back tire-holder-bar (a technical biking term). Safety issue number two. Pushing my feet to the front of the flip flops and pushing down hard, I became determined that my toes would survive. Somehow. I also reminded myself that my childhood was spent without a bike helmet, which explains the long term impacts illustrated in me from many a fall from a bike. Oh well, quickly to the auto garage. Schnell! Schnell! Anything for the one I love.

Did I mention it was hot today? Did I mention that after about three rotations of the bicycle’s pedals I was sweating like a hog? No worries. Anything for the one I love.

So there I was, pedaling along on the sidewalk, no helmet, wearing flip flops, sweating like a pig, and standing up on a woman’s bike. All I needed was clown makeup and the picture would have been complete. Humiliation is temporary, love is forever. Anything for the one I love, the car I love.

Arriving at the repair shop, I could see my car. Waiting for me. Faithful as always, the one I love was ready for another adventure. Let’s drive (no helmet required).

 

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