[Jeff Higgins]

My wife has been out of town for the past week, making the rounds and visiting the staff in her Eastern Washington offices. One of the last things she did before she left was to run me to the doc to have some minor oral surgery performed. Everything went fine; no problems, and my mouth is actually feeling pretty good now, after a week of recovery.

So, not knowing what time she would be getting home today (and actually getting out of the office at a reasonable time myself) I decided it might be a good afternoon to hang some new brake shoes on the '70 Beetle. It all went well (for as dirty and grimy of a job as it is) and I was just wrapping up when her Soob pulls up the driveway.

There I am, under the back of the Bug and dirty as hell, adjusting the rear shoes as my kid was sitting in the car to pump the brakes and center them up. Tools scattered everywhere; old brake shoes laying about; typical working on the car scene.

"Hi honey. How is your mouth? Have you been back in yet to see the dentist again? Have you been using the rinse? Are the stitches coming out yet? Did it hurt the next day? Did you work today? Did the pain meds help? Yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah...."

"Hey Chris, pump 'em one more time."

"O.k. dad."

"Did you even hear me? Are you listening to me?"

"Uh.... what??" I'm kinda busy right now. Can't you see I'm trying to get this done?"

"Oh. I see. Your car is more important than your teeth. That's what I get for caring..." And she stomps into the house all in a huff.

"I'm gonna roll over and do the other side now, Chris."

"O.k. dad."

So I go inside after Chris and I cleaned up and put everything away. "Now what was all of that about my teeth?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Go back to working on your damn car..."

Sigh....