After Skitter did a fine job starring in this morning’s post, I fully intended to share a fabulously exciting tale with y’all in this afternoon’s post. That was truly my plan. And then I looked at my honey-do list and realized my day was going to be all about getting the emissions on both of my vehicles tested, so I could get them officially registered for the coming year.
Indeed, I first drove Vonnegut Grace Vibe to Grease Monkey, where I quietly waited for the testing process to do its processing. While at Grease Monkey, I sat in their Monkey Pit and watched tv on my phone. Vonnegut Grace eventually passed her little test with the highest of grades. I paid her fees on the spot, and she drove us home with tremendous pride in herself. Even now, as she sits parked out front, she still has her chest puffed out for all the other cars in the neighborhood to see.
I worry every year about my truck, Hombre Hombre, passing emissions. She’s a 98, so she’s kinda jalopy-fied—which means she’s old and rusty and decrepit. She could fail her emissions test any year now. As we drove to Grease Monkey, I tried to build her confidence. I told her about The Little Engine That Could, and I told her not to worry because she had more clean emissions to her than any old train engine in a book. At Grease Monkey, Hombre got in line for her testing, and I went to sit and watch more tv on my phone in the Monkey Pit—with my fingers crossed to the vehicle emissions gods. Glory be! Hombre put up low, but passing, numbers for yet another year. Be still my heart! I was thrilled to be able to pay her taxes yet again.
So that was my day. Not fabulous. Not exciting. Just a day full of stuff that took a really long time, but had to be done. I’ll try to be fabulously exciting tomorrow for y’all. It could happen.
