Running late (shocking, I know), I noticed a few miles down the road that the "low oil" light was on.
Competent woman that I am, I called Dennis and said, "What should I do?"
He asked where I was and I told him; he said I should stop at the station in the town I was approaching and add oil.
Submissive Christian wife that I am, I
He said my other option was to sit at the station and wait for him to come put oil in the car.
Swiping a tear from my cheek at the gallant nature of this proposal, I politely declined and said I would figure it out.
Did you know that it's labeled and everything under the hood of a car????? A bright yellow cap that says "add engine oil here."--whoa, this car was made for women like me. (Afterthought: Maybe there are no other women like me...)
I impressed myself with my mad hood opening skills.
The conclusion of this riveting little story? I bought the oil, asked the nice station owner man for a paper funnel (which he had!), didn't spill any oil while using said funnel, put the oil in the right place, got back in the car and the oil light went off.
One small step for you, maybe--one giant leap for me!!!
Aaaaaaaaand, I was only about 7 minutes late for the gig at which I was supposed to sing.
Comparatively speaking, I would chose this kind of event over a carsick kid or diaper "malfunction" any day of the week. Those are two other reasons I have been late for speaking/singing commitments. In case you were wondering. Which you probably weren't.