Because They Don’t Want To

I love my wife, I really do.  Those of you who follow my writing know that the current model is wife 2.0.  Because there was a 1.0, I know just how truly blessed I am with 2.0.  But…..

2.0 recently traveled to the very edge of the state for a mission trip and of course, the automobile surrendered.  Several phone calls to dealers, mechanics, Triple A, etc, resulted in the car being towed across state lines to the nearest dealer for a very expensive repair.  That, of course, is when I got involved.  Several calls to the dealer “tomorrow, we promise” and no part.  Internet research and multiple calls to other dealers reveal the part for the 11 year old car is on national back order and 200 are expected in three months.  We are 395 on the list.  For the 200 that “should” be available in three months. 

2.0 is not happy.  It is very hot on the mission trip and the plumbing is suspect.  Son 1.0 is unhappy because it is really his car.  Both want to know what I am going to do about it.  Please note that I didn’t take the car on the trip and I didn’t break it.  But, what am I going to do about it?

It turns out that many years ago (multiple decades) I had a job that required purchasing salvage auto parts.  So, multiple calls later, I’ve located the part at a salvage yard.  But, the yard is short handed and they can’t pull the part until very late in the day.  It is a 4 hour drive to the current location of the car and I must deliver the part because the dealer isn’t allowed to purchase used parts directly.  Well, as noted above, many years ago I spent years in and around salvage yards; so, white shirt, dress pants, tie, and I go to the salvage yard and retrieve the part (a very large hard to get at part).  I load the part in my car and because the site of the mission trip is on the way to the dealership, and because I really, really, hate driving alone, I asked 2.0 if she would ride the last hour with me.  You know, one hour over, one hour back.  Keeping me company for two of the seven hours I would drive to deliver the part fo her car.  In addition to the three hours retrieving the part in the first place.  Because, I really really hate driving alone.  Seven hours.  Alone.

Well it went like this.  “Honey, will you ride with me to the dealer?”  “No.”  I really hate driving alone and I am making this trip for you.”  “No.”  Well, I drove three and one half hours to deliver the part to the dealer in the next state and about 30 minutes into the return trip, 2.0 calls to ask if I will divert on the return trip and bring her home, early, because it is really hot on the mission trip and because she really really wants to come home early.  So, despite the message above, and because she is 2.0, yes, I made the trip.

If you are wondering about the title to this story, it is the answer to the following question:  “Why don’t husbands outlive their wives….”