My cars collude, big time.  If one gets new oil or a brake job, it brags to the others.  “Look!  I have new parts!”  The other cars get jealous and decide to troll for new bits, too.  Net result: lots of repair bills.

With friends arriving tomorrow, I’m fretting over my van.  Admittedly, it’s got 110,000 miles on its engine (sadly, not on the transmission, already replaced once).  A couple of weeks ago the van started acting up, as in hesitating and playing the “I have a vacuum leak” card.  This was, in part, a reaction to its Daddy’s departure for Points West.  It’s a well-known Navy axiom that cars break after the savvy repair person deploys, not before.  One of my Navy neighbors long ago used to come over before he went to sea, to alert us that his wife would need help with her dead car in short order.  Her cars usually died within 24 hours of Brian’s departure.

So, it won’t come as any surprise when I tell you that my husband is home…and the van works fine.  Next week, when I want to stuff the van full of friends and hit the road for an afternoon – well, that’s another story.

To be continued, I’m sure…