I told you earlier about our Swedish Tank (93 Volvo 240 Classic). The other night we had a small setback. We got into the car and a warning light came on with which I was unfamiliar. I asked Timberley to look in the owner’s manual and see what it meant. She reported that one headlight was not working. I looked ahead of us, flashed the high beams a few times, and, lo and behold, she was right. Our right headlight was not working.
We decided to call a local mechanic we had heard about who specializes in Volvos to fix the light and look at a few other things we wanted to have checked. The next morning, however, while I was at work, I received a text message from my bright son telling me that we don’t have to get the light fixed anymore. I asked him in return, “Why not?” He immediately replied, “We fixed it already.”
Of course, I figured something odd had happened. Perhaps the light had come on by itself. Perhaps Timberley and Samuel opened the hood and there was a loose wire that needed jiggling. I filed that thought away and didn’t think about it the rest of the day.
Then when I got home I remembered to ask her about it. “So what happened to the car? How did the light come back on?”
“I already told you. We fixed it.”
“But I mean, really, what happened?” I could tell that Timberley was enjoying this a little too much. She had a funny smile on her face, and I was not sure what was so funny.
“I figured that I could fix it, so I got out the shop manual for the car. Sam and I went out, took out the head light from the car, and pulled out the bulb. We went to the auto parts store and bought a new bulb. We brought it home and Samuel put it all back together and reassembled the headlight in the car.” She said it all as if she had said that Samuel took out the trash and replaced the garbage bag when he was done.
I have been really proud of my wife and son before. But not often have I been this proud. Good job.