Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of “Don’t Try to Walk before You Can Crawl” (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (01/17/08)
TITLE: The Learning Curve
By Hanne Moon
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But I digress.
It all started with the stupid truck, and my husband allowing me to help him with replacing the valve cover gaskets. I canâ€™t explain the high I got from tackling something soâ€¦soâ€¦soâ€¦not â€śgirlyâ€ť.
Okay, I admit it. I was proud of myself. (Yeah, yeah, I knowâ€¦pride goeth before a downfall and all that stuff.)
I confess â€“ I was full of it. Pride that is. Tinker with the truck and all of a sudden Iâ€™m an ace mechanic. Iâ€™d pop the hood on my car while I filled up with gas, pull out a dipstick or two, and really act like I knew what I was doing.
Then one night I left home to run to the store. My car began making a gosh-awful racket and the steering wasnâ€™t too smoky either. I turned around and headed back. As I pulled into the driveway, my husband and his best friend, J.D., came out to meet me.
â€śSomethingâ€™s wrong with my car,â€ť I said as I jumped out and popped the hood.
â€śHmmm,â€ť my husband replied.
â€śThe steeringâ€™s all squirrelly, and itâ€™s making a noise,â€ť I explained as I checked dipsticks and wiggled bolts.
J.D. peeked over my shoulder. â€śWhat kind of noise?â€ť
â€śI canâ€™t describe it. Itâ€™s shaking all over and kind of going whomp, whomp, whomp,â€ť I said as I checked the fan belt.
â€śUh huh.â€ť He turned to my husband. â€śSounds serious to me.â€ť
My husband leaned down and looked at the grille. â€śHoney, have you checked the headlights?â€ť he asked, tapping the lenses.
â€śNo way,â€ť said J.D. â€śI think itâ€™s the turn signals or the side markers.â€ť
â€śWhat is wrong with you two boneheads?â€ť I yelled. â€śHeadlights and turn signals donâ€™t make the kind of noise I heard! Iâ€™m not stupid!â€ť
My husband grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me toward the rear of the car, pointing. â€śWell then, do you think that flat tire might have anything to do with it?â€ť
I felt the heat rise in my face, and I clenched my teeth. I punched my husband, slammed the hood, and kicked J.D. for good measure while he was rolling around on the ground in hysterics.
But by then Iâ€™d caught the fever. I was bound and determined to learn how to do stuff. My husband was equally bound and determined that I wasnâ€™t going to touch stuff. After a remodeled kitchen, a new riding lawnmower, and a power substation, he has locked me out of the tool shed.
We were at Loweâ€™s the other day, picking up some doors we had ordered. I moseyed over to the tool department while we were waiting.
â€śWhat are you doing?â€ť my husband growled behind me.
I grinned sheepishly. â€śJust wondering if you needed a new set of socket wrenches.â€ť
â€śNo,â€ť he said, pushing me toward the door. â€śAnd neither do you.â€ť
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