Conquering the Toolbox

There are a number of times when it is very useful to have two dads.

1. Moving day. You get four hands instead of two.
2. Christmas. You get an extra stocking stuffer.
3. Bedtime (as a child). You get a full cast of parents to read you stories at night.  Not two parents, but three. Multiple vocal impressions. The only other kids on the planet who get that has Robin Williams for a father.
4. Car problems. Rationale: one of them is bound to answer the phone in times of distress.

And my favorite...Tool Usage Dilemmas. Both of my fabulous dads understand tools. Between them, they own the entire Sears Hardware Department dating back to 1980.

They can fix cars, computers, and every broken household fixture imaginable. Plus, they can build houses, install plumbing, craft furniture, weld most metals, and run electrical wiring. Am I spoiled? Well, yes. But for the most part, I was shown as least a few things growing up, so as to be semi self-sufficient as a young woman living alone. Because they obviously knew that I was the "determined" sort of child focused on moving far far away from my helpers...silly, silly woman. Now, if I need help, I must Skype one or ask for the other's presence weeks in advance. Poorly executed plan for independence on my part.

Among my basic lessons, were simple explanations of how to do things like change a tire, install a doorknob, use a level and hammer properly, and even how to use a soldering iron (though, we pronounce it "sauderin'"). All useful. And all of which introduced me to the most common sets of tools, i.e. level, socket wrench, car jack. Which is why I was MORTIFIED to have to call one of my well-versed fathers this past weekend.

I actually had to think about which father figure would be less ashamed of me for forgetting how to use one a basic element of the household toolbox. I opted to call the one who could judge me from the farthest distance away. Cue iPhone: place call to Florida.

Thrilled Step Dad: Why hey there! How are you?!

B-Verbose: Um, so I need help.

Amused Step Dad: Ha! Oh really. Well, that figures. What is up?

B-Verbose: Well, I am trying to swap out the electrical cord for the dryer we just bought. I need to convert it from a 30 AMP to a 50 AMP and...

Horrified Step Dad: WAIT! WAIT! What are you doing? Stop right now! Amps?! Don't you mean watts? Put everything on the ground! NOW B----. GET YOUR SISTER!

::derailed for 15 minutes during which time I calmly explained the situation, and pacified Step Dad that photos were taken to the Lowe's Help Center, that professionals picked out the necessary cords, and that I was completely capable of doing minor electrical work. And that I could do it without the help of my sister half::

Flustered Step Dad: Well then, what is it you need?

B-Verbose: Um, well, you see...and you can't laugh! I know I am ditsy but this is really a problem, and I need to you just tell me how to do it. Don't make any comments, just...

Step Dad (interrupting): B---, just tell me what it is!

B-Verbose: ...I can't get the socket wrench to change directions. So, I can't get the back panel off ::defeated sigh::

Shame accurately describes what I was feeling in that moment. Foiled by a socket wrench?

A long pause was followed by a very slow, drawn out description of how to locate the "switch" that comes on every socket wrench. The tone was a little surprised. I would venture to say disappointed that I had forgotten my lessons. But there was TRICKERY! There WAS no switch! I knew right then that the universe (or in this case, Advance Auto Parts and its travel kits) was playing games with my head! Every tool I have ever used belongs in the late 1980s or early 90s (some older than that). I had to finally send a picture via iPhone to him, and we figured out together that the attachment push pin could double as a rotation element. That. Was. Not. In. My. Lessons. And the pin was cantankerous. It was weird. So, obviously, I prefer antique tools.::wink wink::

Still, that was the only part of the project that I needed help with. I swapped things out all by my lonesome, tested the dryer, and it has yet to catch on fire.

Go girl, go!

... part of me dreads the day that I have to use something really fancy. Like the "Total Gym" equivalent of drills or something. Then Chuck Norris or Bob Vila will show up to give me a stern talkin' to....depending on who has the day off, of course. ::insert cheesy grin over bad joke here::