My key fob on my Honda croaked. No big … I took my husband’s extra key. BACK-UP!
Then? The OTHER one croaked. Within a week … wt … how does THAT happen?
Credit Image: Jessie Pearl on Flickr
Now, yes, I’m aware … I can go OLD SCHOOL, use a key, right? No. Wrong. #lazy
What would I normally have done? Called my Daddy. Because he was MacGyver. On everything … and if I went over there and asked, it would be fixed. Lickety split fixed! BAM.
Then I thought, “CRAP … ” and realized, “I have to do this myself … I have to.”
Of course … I Google. I watch a YouTube video. I get all the tiny tools, the CR1616 batteries and BAM! I CHANGE THE BATTERIES IN BOTH AND THEY WORK LIKE BRAND NEW. I did it! I didn’t break anything! I didn’t go to the dealership! I didn’t throw it across the room! I. Did. IT.
And I sighed … and smiled. My Daddy would be SO proud of me. Seriously, he would have been pleased. I could FEEL his happy feelings. It was just up his alley to fix stuff. I did it. I’m 42. And I can change a key fob battery. I felt like I accomplished an amazing task. I. Did. IT. You make think “um … wt”, but it made me feel great. Smile … happy.
And … FYI? It’s odd both died within a week. Hmmmmm, ODD*
*Thanks, Daddy, for the sign, I got it. I miss you every day for the last six months, but I still got all your genius in me. Love you … thanks for reminding me.
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