Cars and Men, Need I Say More

Ten months ago, when my husband and I started out on this wonderful journey we call marriage, there was only one possession we had that was of any worth. Our gray, 2002, Mercury Sable. The car had been a gift from his sweet mother and step-father on his return from his mission. Before we got married, between courtship, and engagement, we had almost a years worth of mileage that had been put on this car by Dan. This car had been put through quite the runner for a few reasons, the main one being, during our year of dating, I lived about 3 hours away from the city Dan was living in. In order to maintain the relationship that had quickly run away from us, Dan would travel the 3 hours, which was about 300 miles, to see me on a weekend he didn't have work. He'd stay for 2, sometimes 3 days, and then he'd make the trip back. He made this trip every 2 to 3 weeks for a whole year. Needless to say, our car got a little used up. In June of 2012 we married and moved to the wonderful land of Provo, Utah to start our life. Upon arriving to Utah, we started noticing a loud squealing noise that was undoubtedly our breaks that was continuously getting worse. For close to 2 months, we avoided taking the car into a shop because we weren't looking forward to finding out what it was going to cost to fix our breaks. Finally, the breaks got to a point where the squealing noise was intolerable, so we took the car in. After a quick inspection, the mechanic came out to the waiting room to tell us that it was a miracle we'd been driving that car like that and hadn't had our breaks go out completely. The breaks were completely gone and the rotors were trashed. After 6 hours in the car shop, and a whopping 600 dollars, our car was like new! Or so we thought. That 600 dollars had been a bit of a bite, but we figured we wouldn't have to put any more money in the car for awhile, so it was no big deal. About 3 weeks later, we went out to dinner with Dan's side of the family, to celebrate the birthday of a cousin. When we left the restaurant to go home, our car wouldn't start. It was completely dead. We had accidentally left the lights on, so we thought the car had just died. Just have someone jump start the car, no problem, right? Wrong. The car was more than dead, it was...well....whatever is deader than dead, that's what our car was. So, we hitched a ride home, determined to call the mechanic in the morning and get our car up and going again. I hitched a ride to work the next morning and Dan stayed home to take care of the car. After another long wait in the car shop, they determined that our alternator needed replaced as well as our battery. That cost us another 500 dollars, but we breathed a sigh of relief because we were sure, that this was the last episode like this we'd have. 2 weeks later, Dan and I were on our way to the mall when we blew a tire. Now blowing a tire is something that happens to everybody, but by this point I was at my limit. I had decided that this car totally had it out for us. So, we changed the tire and took it into the shop, only to have them tell us that all of our tires have been worn so thin, that we're likely to blow them too if we didn't get them changed, which led to another 200 dollars worth of new tires. But it's ok, because this is the end of our worries, right? Wrong, 2 months later, out of no where, our engine light comes on. So, what do we do, we wait for 2 more months to decide that something is legitimately wrong with the car because it keeps making noises that aren't normal and we take it in. After another 6 hours in the car shop and a whopping 1,000 dollars, we find out that the tubes in the front of the car that apparently do something important, have disintegrated in some places and are busted in half, so the oil and other.....important things that are supposed to be getting in and out of the car, aren't. So, we fix it, pay the money, and smile as we walk out the door, because what else could possibly go wrong. We've already fixed the breaks, rotors, tires, alternator and now a bunch of little tubes and hoses. Pshht, our car is basically new, so, no worries. Not. It's been less than a month since that last car visit and Dan comes home saying that the shocks must have gone out on the car because every time we hit a bump we totally bottom out. Lovely, well this time, instead of taking it to the mechanic, Dan decided to fix it himself. Does anyone want to continue the story from here? Well this is actually a really frustrating but cute part of this story, you see, my husband loves cars, so he was actually excited  this morning when he got up to fix the car. Well, that was at 7:30 am. It is now 1:30 and after a whole morning out here, he's managed to take apart basically the whole car, bust a few bolts in half, cover himself, and everything he touches in grease and determine that this would all have only taken him 30 minutes if he could just get the bolt out. So I grin as I watch him, covered in grease, go under that car with a big smile, determined to fix the darn thing. I've no doubt, that by the end of the day, the car will definitely be fixed, after all, Dan's intelligent, and he's apparently changed shocks on a car before. The problem is, this isn't any car, this is our car, and it never seems to work out like it should, so I've been given the job of watching the tools that are now scattered all around the car, while Dan and his brother, excitedly go to the store to get some tool that's going to fix this whole mess, that I will later have to find a place for in our apartment that is already stuffed to the max. So what can I do, I sit, smile, and realize that this is just one more story to add to my beautiful disaster.