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Driving home after a lunch out with my husband, the melody to the song “My Favorite Things” wove its way through my mind. I couldn’t quite recall the words …
Clip-clopping horses and buggies to sit in
Pink, puffy clouds that remind me of spring
These are a few of my favorite things!
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Later, as I parked in the garage, I recalled I’d forgotten to check my automobile’s engine oil. An orange light had been beckoning me on my dashboard for over a week. I believed it represented a light-bulb, thus meaning a light was out somewhere. But they all seem to be functioning. I imagined how horrified I’d be if my oil had run low; I actually had a major oil leak a few months ago, but recently hadn’t seen any of the murky liquid on my garage floor. Not that I’d looked for it. My husband was at work so I decided to check my oil and found everything in tip-top shape: clean oil up to the full mark.
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Do you remember, in the not so distant past, when a polite attendant at the gas station strode out to pump your gasoline and check your oil? Not to mention, wash your windshield. Alas, those days are long gone—where I live, anyway.
As the song continued to meander through my brain, I decided that checking engine oil is one of my least favorite things. No, make that pumping gasoline. I hate to pump gas! How about you? Do you have a least favorite thing?
|Pink clouds at sunset|
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