Never Say Never

"I'm NOT touching your mouse-mobile," I told Dan this morning when he suggested fueling up his summer car.

Over the winter, he'd parked the 1988 Dodge Aries wagon in the shed where his old Farmall tractor once stood. Last Spring he sold the big rig and deck mower to buy a new lawn tractor that the boys could manage. This Spring Dan found the mouse family that used to "winter" in his tractor engine bedded down on the floor of the car. Dan quickly evicted mama and her pink hairless baby, removed their mess and vacuumed up the debris. Unfortunately, their odor stayed.

After disinfectants and deodorizers failed, Dan came to me and said, "Maybe YOU can try scrubbing down the floors."

I made no reply but thought many.

A week later at Dan's request, I renewed the car's license tabs and insurance. Today before leaving on a week's work trip for Dallas, Dan suggested "Maybe you could take the car and fuel it up."

That's when I uttered those fateful words: "I'm NOT touching your mouse-mobile."

Later that day I hopped in the truck intending to pickup Isaac from track practice. I turned the key, heard a clicking noise and got no start. I checked the fuel, oil, and battery gauges – all fine. I tried the key again. Same story.

Now what? I thought. Dan's on a plane to Dallas. A mechanic is miles away. Our son is waiting at school.

Through the windshield, I saw the "mouse-mobile" parked ahead of me. I grabbed my key ring, found the right one, opened the door, rolled down the window, fired it up and drove away to get Isaac.

On our way home, I stopped at the gas station. As I fueled the tank, I laughed. Not only was I "touching" Dan's mouse-mobile, now I was driving and fueling it up – just as he'd asked.

How easy it is to advise our boys: "Don't tell me you're NOT gonna do something."

How fast did I eat my own words? There's sound advice in the adage: "Never say never." And a lesson here in helping one another.