I don’t know about you, but my first car was a holy nightmare.

It was an early 70′s Plymouth Grand Fury, electric blue, and most notably, a former police car which meant that the V8 engine sucked gas at rates that put my modest bank account into shock. Not only that, but the muffler had issues which meant that I had to carry around a gallon of water at all times since my floorboards would literally start on FIRE.

No big deal, except that Minnesota is frozen for six months out of the year and it’s difficult to pour solid ice on a fire. So I scoped out all the car washes in my driving vicinity and made many detours to them as the vehicle filled with smoke.

It takes alot of Love’s Baby Soft perfume to cover up the scent of smoke.

But I didn’t complain because having my own wheels meant freedom. And many near death experiences. That which doesn’t kill you makes you smell alot like beef jerky and baby powder.

A friend of mine gave Kevin a car this year and while it looked to be in good shape, it has provided essential life experiences in car repair: frame repair, shocks and struts, transmission and most recently the heater coil. Every time Kevin comes home from school, there’s a new car repair project for Darren.

So the family is divided upon Kev’s arrival. I get giddy with joy that my baby is home. Darren cringes because he knows that his weekend will be spent trying to find the necessary tools to make the repairs. I’m sure it only happens in our home, but wrenches, sockets, screwdrivers and pliers have a uncanny way of disappearing.

Nothing puts a man in a foul mood like not being able to find his tools, AMIRIGHT?

Today the tension level was building in our makeshift car repair shop because Kevin thinks he knows it all and Darren actually does. It amazes me that they can go at each other for hours at a time and still manage to sit in the same room afterwards. If girls talked to each other like that, feelings would get hurt and relationships would end but these guys just take it in stride and get over the spats in an instant… like when Kevin decides to assuage the tension with a song like this (if foul language offends you, I suggest you don’t watch):

In the end, a teenager’s shitty car builds character, patience and a much needed sense of humor.

Not to mention moments that I couldn’t possibly explain with mere words.

Cue the banjo music.