Sunday of my Life

Or lack thereof. Today’s planned trip to take Erin’s old car t othe wrecker’s yard proved to me unequivicolly how little I know about the damn things. Like how to jump-start one (since Erin’s battery had run flat). Or about how they’re always supposed to be parked in gear (since when using Peta’s car to jump-start Erin’s I had to put my foot on the cluch in order to start it — a pecularity of Peta’s car. Upon taking my foot off the clutch the car jerked forward, stalled, and narrowly missed the gate in front of me). I love being the anti-stereotype. I’m the only male in the family (apart from my father). What I know about cars could be engraved in big letters on a pin.