I recently blogged about the Cozy Coupe, my mortal enemy of molded plastic.
If Michael didn't have a serious baby crush on his precious car, that thing would have been a smoldering slag pile ages ago. As it stands, the car is getting some heavy use, and Mikey's even figured out how to lift his feet up so that they don't get mangled by dragging in the undercarriage.
Sadly, his car drives like a full-size Dodge Ram van running on rims with a narcoleptic goat at the helm. It wobbles and swerves, and the wheels constantly rotate the wrong direction. The reason for this? I installed the wheel axles backward. And I can't get them out to fix it. Sorry, Mikey. You get a busted ride. Don't feel bad. My first car was a 1981 Isuzu I-mark with a top speed of 45 mph. This car broke down once in an automatic car wash. That was fun.
Making matters worse, Mikey was steering his car tonight when the steering wheel pulled right off in his hands. It was positively Yugo-esque. Unfortunately, I couldn't get it to reinstall correctly, so the steering wheel pulls out at the least provocation.
During my failed repair, the wheel came out again, and little Mikey opined, "You broke it." I didn't even know he knew those words, and I didn't appreciate the accusation.
Just another day in the life of mediocre handyman dad. I just can't wait for Christmas Eve.