You know, my SO has a totally different plan of attack, and it works like a
charm. I don't recommend mentioning this to your wife, girlfriend, or
whomever...but rather, be on the look-out for it. Perhaps you can think of a
dodge I couldn't.
Whenever, with glowing enthusiasm, I propound to herself what marvellous new
thing I'm going to attempt to do to the pride and joy of my driving
existence, she gets this sort of steely-superior Teuton look in her eyes and
says, "Oh, Corey, that's vonderful. I can't vait to see it. Oh, and by ze
vay, not to tchange the subject, but haf you seen ze dog? I tink he has
gotten avay again, trough de fence, vich you know is broken. Und I tink
perhaps you should not take a shower in ze master bath this eve after you
finish your car vork; I tink zere is a small leak in ze plaster. I know you
can haf a look at it sometime. I vould say you should bathe in ze basement,
but you know the sump pump stopped vorking last veek. It is a minor ting, I
know. Ach! I haf almost forgetten. Did you call ze man about ze gutters? I
notice zis afternoon Mrs. Finkdoodle next door is hafing hers done. And did
you vant dinner under ze car tonight, or vere you perhaps going to join us at
table for a change?" Then she smiles and tells me she loves me. Aaaargh!
It's awful. And the landslide of guilt never fails to deter me from what
would, otherwise, be a pleasant evening working on the car. I am become a
craven creature, sneaking out to the shop from time to time, skimping on my
lunch allowance until I can afford to buy a new piece for my toy, breaking
down on purpose on the side of the road just to have a chance to open the
bonnet.
Be certain to erase this message soon, lest your SO get ideas. And if anyone
comes up with a defence for this, please, please, tell me.
Corey
75 MGB 'Rags'
Obviously the Head of his Household
|