My husband sent me to the auto store to pick up an air filter for my Jeep. I walked in confidently with my daughter and tried to pretend that I knew my way around. I saw a sign that said, "Filters," so I felt sure that my shopping experience would be short and painless. However, although the boxes stretched to the ceiling and down the length of the aisle, they all stated that they were specifically oil filters, not air filters.
Humbled, I approached the front counter and faced the large, sour-faced man guarding the cash register.
"Whaddya need?" he asked, and from his tone I could tell that I had interrupted some very important activity he had been doing. He was probably just about to set a new record for standing in one spot.
"I need an air filter. Are they with the oil filters somewhere?"
"I have to look it up," he grunted, and moved reluctantly from his record-setting spot to the computer. "What's the make and model of your car?"
"Jeep Commander, 2007," I answered, proud that I knew the information.
"What's the motor size?" He asked and yawned at the same time.
"Motor size?" I panicked and searched my mind for the knowledge. I begged the recesses of my brain to dig deep and find the motor size quickly.
"Motor size," he restated.
"Um," I deflated, "is there a way I would know that? Like, does it say it somewhere in the Jeep?"
"I'll have to pop the hood and take a look," he growled with a roll of his eyes.
We walked to the Jeep, and I spent the journey begging God to infuse me with knowledge on how to pop the hood with confidence. He waited at the front, unwilling to waste extra steps, while I took Emery with me to the driver's door and quickly found the lever with a picture of an open hood on it. Thankfully, I did the trick right, and the motor size was quickly discovered. Grumpy man waddled back to the computer and entered the unearthed information.
"Oh!" he said, staring at the computer screen. "You have a hemi."
"Yes, I do," I answered because I had seen that word on the back of my Jeep as I loaded groceries.
"A hemi," he nodded and raised one eyebrow. He looked out the window at my Jeep, and then he gave me a thumbs up.
I gave him my credit card, and he chit-chatted with a smile as the computer settled my bill. He waved to me and winked at Emery as we exited the store.
"What is a hemi?" Emery asked I started the Jeep.
"Apparently it is something that makes you awesome."
Later that same day I dropped my iphone in water. "It was completely submerged," I told Emery, "and look - it is still working!"
She looked at my phone, tested some of the apps, nodded, handed it back and said, "Maybe it has a hemi."
Humbled, I approached the front counter and faced the large, sour-faced man guarding the cash register.
"Whaddya need?" he asked, and from his tone I could tell that I had interrupted some very important activity he had been doing. He was probably just about to set a new record for standing in one spot.
"I need an air filter. Are they with the oil filters somewhere?"
"I have to look it up," he grunted, and moved reluctantly from his record-setting spot to the computer. "What's the make and model of your car?"
"Jeep Commander, 2007," I answered, proud that I knew the information.
"What's the motor size?" He asked and yawned at the same time.
"Motor size?" I panicked and searched my mind for the knowledge. I begged the recesses of my brain to dig deep and find the motor size quickly.
"Motor size," he restated.
"Um," I deflated, "is there a way I would know that? Like, does it say it somewhere in the Jeep?"
"I'll have to pop the hood and take a look," he growled with a roll of his eyes.
"Oh!" he said, staring at the computer screen. "You have a hemi."
"Yes, I do," I answered because I had seen that word on the back of my Jeep as I loaded groceries.
"A hemi," he nodded and raised one eyebrow. He looked out the window at my Jeep, and then he gave me a thumbs up.
I gave him my credit card, and he chit-chatted with a smile as the computer settled my bill. He waved to me and winked at Emery as we exited the store.
"What is a hemi?" Emery asked I started the Jeep.
"Apparently it is something that makes you awesome."
Later that same day I dropped my iphone in water. "It was completely submerged," I told Emery, "and look - it is still working!"
She looked at my phone, tested some of the apps, nodded, handed it back and said, "Maybe it has a hemi."
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