Thursday night, I got to work on our car with Mr. Curly. I can practically hear the "So what?" you're thinking right now.
SOOOO - soooo, this is something we used to do regularly. We'd go out, change the oil on the car, clean it out, check a few things, talk, joke, laugh, and then get a treat.
I'm not sure we've done that since Curly Boy was born (3 years for those of you keeping track).
Thursday night, Mr. Curly worked on the car a bit by himself while the kids played and I worked in the garden. Then I bathed the kids (and left an adorable ring of dirt around the tub. I love the days my kids have played so hard that the tub is filthy when they're done. Silly I know, but it means we had a good day.), put them to bed, grabbed my nook (from my mom, I'm loving it) and went out to keep my husband company.
Turns out, the nook was unnecessary.
I added windshield wiper fluid, and oil once the new filter was on. I read capacity limits in the car's manual. Then I helped remove and put new transmission fluid in the transfer case, and helped pump new transmission fluid into (where else) the transmission.
My hands and hair got greasy (I can't work on a car without getting dirt on my face and oil in my hair) and I'm pretty sure I ruined the pants I was wearing when a hose of transmission fluid leaked on them (I didn't dress for the job unfortunately).
But I had a really great time with my husband. We laughed and talked and joked, searched out parts together and came in at 10:00 at night thoroughly dirty and pleased with the job we had done.
There is something satisfying about working on a car yourself. There's something even more satisfying about working on a car with your spouse.