Dear Kid,

I, your mother, am a car genius. Yes, moi.

You can stop laughing now.

I am also a do-gooder.

Seriously, stop giggling.

When I went out to my car after work on Friday, there was a woman trying to open the hood of her car. She had a big bottle of windshield wiper fluid next to her on the ground. Using my amazing powers of interpretation, I deduced that she was trying to open the hood to refill the windshield wiper fluid tank.

Since this is one of the few very few things I consider myself to be an expert competent with, I decided to offer to help.

“I’m not exactly great at cars,” I said (the Universe coughed—it sounded like “understatement”) “but I’m happy to try to help.” She looked grateful. The Universe smirked.

I walked over and immediately identified her vehicle as a white car. You’re impressed, right? She had popped the hood but hadn’t found the little lever to actually open it.

I fiddled. I fidoodled. I felt around. I couldn’t find the little lever either.

“You’re so nice to help. But don’t worry, my husband will be off work in an hour or so,” she said.

The Universe guffawed.

I got sneaky and peeked under the hood—and there it was. The little lever thingy doodle.

I scootled it and pop! Open went the hood. Then I even found the prop-y up-y thing to hold up the hood when she couldn’t.

The Universe graciously conceded.

I left her filling the windshield wiper fluid reserve.

She was very happy and grateful.

I felt great.

And I know I am a car expert because I got grease on my thumb.

Hope you get to do a good deed today.

Love, Mom