I Can and I Can't

I can do all sorts of things. I can change a tire on the side of the road. I can replace an alternator even when it requires rolling the engine. I can change the brakes and the calipers too. I can put the car up on ramps and change my own oil. I can check all the fluids under the hood. I can check the fuses and change a headlight then fine tune it to point the right way. I can jump start my date's car in my prom dress because he doesn't have a clue what to do with those long cable things. I can put in a new battery. I can and have done all sorts of things for the trucks we've had over the years. I cannot, however, no matter how hard I try to slam it just right and how many times I open it up again and slam it again and again and AGAIN...I cannot close the hood of those same dang cars and trucks. I'm just retarded like that I guess. So, honey, tonight I put oil and antifreeze in the Honda. Checked all the fluids. We're good to go, but before you drive to work...you might wanna latch that baby down like it's supposed to be. I stopped slamming the hood down after four tries for fear of waking baby Abby peacefully sleeping 20 feet away in her bedroom. What's the point? I can't do it anyway. Love ya! Acutally, this reminds me of the time when...no...I wasn't going to mention the time you got knocked out while tightening a lug nut and have tatoo makeup to prove it. I could tell that story, you know I love to, but not today. We'll save that one for another ay. Today I was actually thinking of the other time when we worked on the big blue boat of a car together at my parents while we were in college. Ahhh. The beautiful Pontiac Grand Prix. Who knows what we were doing, but Dad has all the tools, so we went there. Remember how you couldn't quite get the hood to close right after we were done working. But we were tired and just didn't care that much anymore. Remember how it latched (you must have done it since I don't have that skill)? It was closed tightly, but a tiny bit cockeyed. Weird. You did it a few more times but it still sat a teensy bit off. We just cleaned up and went in. Three weeks later my dad called to see where we had put one of his tools. I'm thinking a crowbar/cheater bar of some sort but can't recall exactly. We claimed to have cleaned up everything and I put it all away since I knew where it all went after 20 years of living there. I insisted it was in the drawer. He insisted it wasn't. I insisted he was wrong. He insisted we check our tools and our trunk. We did and I triumphantly reported that we did not have his silly tool. Finally he told me to check under the hood to see if it had fallen somewhere and stuck there. I checked. Nothing. Just like I suspected. But wait...remember how the hood was just a teensy bit cocked? Yeah. That darn tool was right there. Safe and sound for three weeks by the cockeyed hood, lodged just so against the front grill but out enough to prevent the passenger side of the hood from going down flush like it should.