I used to dread oil changes like the plague. Sitting in a dirty waiting room while Wheel of Fortune played on a dated tv in the corner, trying to determine if the greasy mechanic was trying to pull one over on me, "You need a windshield wiper deep conditioning treatment"...not my idea of fun.
That all changed when these hot wheels loving, power tool wielding, dirt under fingernails, little bundles of testosterone started arriving. They couldn't be happier if I announced we were going to Disney World. I should film our arrival at Jiffy Lube and use "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes," as a background track.
I see the oil slicked floors, the grimy chairs, the open pits in the floor. Harrison sees high powered air wrench action, the choreographed speed of a Nascar pit crew, and a thousand curiosities on which to get his little hands.
Of course, the free coffee (to all concerned: I only gave him like a tablespoon) doesn't hurt. And so we played as if we were at Magic Kingdom while we watched the oil get changed, the tires rotated, and some Wheel of Fortune re-runs.