Friday, March 04, 2005
The Club
We live near the car-theft capital of Canada, so we bought one of the Club things for the car (some knockoff brand.) Cheap deterrent! The West Coast Express was selling them for twelve bucks as part of its car -theft prevention programme (they don't like cars being stolen from their parking lots.) And ICBC will give us $100 off our deductible if someone defeats the Club and steals our car. It is beyond me, however, how they will know that we had a Club on the steering wheel at the time the car was stolen. Maybe if there are bits of Club left in your parking space, you can turn them in with your claim?
It has taken me several weeks to learn to apply the Club to the steering wheel correctly, but this morning I do believe I mastered it! Who says you can't teach an old fart new tricks? Until today, I routinely locked the Club down on the horn almost every time I used it, which resulted in much panic as I fumbled for the Club key and tried to get that bastard off the steering wheel.
This morning, I finally figured out the technique (this after having been shown said method by my husband several times) and got the Club on properly without waking my entire village with a blaring car horn. Where's my prize?
It's sad to think I once managed to get a university degree and a college diploma, among other things, and now it takes me three weeks to learn how to put a Club on my steering wheel. Turning 40 really does kill off the brain cells... I suppose it's all downhill from here in terms of mental agility!
Speaking of cars, we are once again a one-car family. We have sold the 14-year-old Dadmobile. No doubt we'll buy another car at some point, but for now I'm managing just fine with one car between the two of us.
It has taken me several weeks to learn to apply the Club to the steering wheel correctly, but this morning I do believe I mastered it! Who says you can't teach an old fart new tricks? Until today, I routinely locked the Club down on the horn almost every time I used it, which resulted in much panic as I fumbled for the Club key and tried to get that bastard off the steering wheel.
This morning, I finally figured out the technique (this after having been shown said method by my husband several times) and got the Club on properly without waking my entire village with a blaring car horn. Where's my prize?
It's sad to think I once managed to get a university degree and a college diploma, among other things, and now it takes me three weeks to learn how to put a Club on my steering wheel. Turning 40 really does kill off the brain cells... I suppose it's all downhill from here in terms of mental agility!
Speaking of cars, we are once again a one-car family. We have sold the 14-year-old Dadmobile. No doubt we'll buy another car at some point, but for now I'm managing just fine with one car between the two of us.
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