Kiss of Death

I'm beginning to think I might, just might, emit a negative aura. If not, explain to me how in the world it is possible to kill not one, but two...yes...two...cars in one day.

My Monday morning started at 5:45am with taking Brian to the airport, and in the ensuing 12 hours I managed to make both of our cars undriveable. How'd it happen? Well, it all begins with a whoops, and ends with a little bolt. Let me take you back to that lovely morning 4 days ago. You'll probably be amazed at how simple it was for me to wreak havoc on the transportation section of my life.

Dropped Brian off at the airport bright and early, came back, parked the car...didn't turn off the lights. Oops. Went out a little later to move him to a shady spot, and found the battery dead. I figured that was ok; I'd just jump him when I got home from driving the girls to girls camp.

Drove the girls to said girls camp. The hour and a half drive up was pretty uneventful (and gorgeous...love Maryland farm land!). The 2 plus hour drive home was full of traffic. About 2 minutes from getting home I noticed steam coming from under my hood. Then noticed my temperature gauge was off the charts. WHAT?! Called my dad (who's a genius at cars among other things) and he walked me through some diagnostics (yes, I had coolant...no I didn't see dripping...no, the radiator fan wasn't turning...) and then told me not to drive the car til I took it to a shop.

Thus began the process of trying to find an honest mechanic. Thank goodness for the internet and reviews. As we speak, Tink is sitting in a shop that I feel oh-so-good about having her radiator fan replaced, and being pampered with an oil change. According to my friendly neighborhood mechanic, Tom, he found a 10mm bolt lodged in the fan. Apparently it was either dropped, or flipped up in there flukishly and mucked things all up.

Best part was, when I called Brian to tell him I'd killed both the cars, the phone died. Kiss of death, I tell you. Kiss of death.