You would have to use all of your fingers and toes to be able to count how many times my father has received this kind of call:
“Daddy, something has happened to my car.”

His response was always, “Where are you? I’m on my way.”

Of course, most of those calls were never on the warmest, sunniest days. It seems car trouble always happens on the coldest or rainiest days. I can remember a day when my monster Chevy station wagon decided to quit, it was at least 20 below zero. And, of course...


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