Ride Alongs

Our house smells like melting metal but I like it. We just had our leaky main water pipe fixed and there was some soldering involved. Which obviously intrigued Grayson. Secretly, though, it also intrigued me. The plumber was kind and let us hover over him to watch him work. He explained things to Grayson as I pretended not to listen intently. I've always wanted to weld stuff. Not be a welder, per se, just maybe something artsy like that lady who painted wings on the Fed Ex box in Castaway. There's something fascinating about the way metal can turn into a liquid under the stress of a small blue flame. I imagine working glass is just as empowering but metal is more solid and committed. Glass has too many reflectory possibilities - too similar to real life to be intoxicating for this practical gypsy.

Just a few days ago we had a technician come out to change my tire. (I know, I'm just as embarrassed to admit this in writing, believe me. What's worse is that I couldn't even tell the guy where to find the spare. Bet you'd never guess where they hide one of those in a minivan.) He was all tatted up like an ex con but had the patience of a saint when Grayson, Abby and I parked our lawn chairs in the driveway to watch him make quick work with the pneumatic drill. I've never wanted to be a car technician but I do appreciate a person who understands every separate part to a whole working machine. I remember being my son's age and watching Exxon workers dip their heads under the hood of our little Chevette at the gas station to check the oil. They'd resurface moments later with their fingernails outlined in black and their shiny silver pen sticking out of their shirt pocket. To me, there was no finer accountant or business person as that Exxon worker who slid carbon paper over my mom's credit card right then and there in the parking lot.

I'm not asking for more things to go wrong in this house or with our automobiles but the upside to having children is that when they do, I get to go along for the ride to fix the problem and act like I'm eavesdropping just "for the kids." I'm sure the baker at Giant will be on to me when I ask if we can watch them mix warm vats of brownie dough in their amphitheater sized mixer but I'm willing to take that risk. On behalf of the children, of course.


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P.S. If you could only get 6 of the 34 pics on yesterday's slideshow, I'm sorry. I was dorking around w/privacy settings and managed to goon it all up. Here's the link again if you're still interested. If not, I totally understand. I was there and I'm totally over it.