My son is a dear little chap, and anyone who knows him can attest to that, except his sisters, naturally. They wouldn't hesitate to throw him under a bus. He has a high regard, for me, his mother and that was never so apparent as this morning.
On the way to school my "low washer fluid" light comes on, I don't say anything but make a mental note of it. After I drop them off in the school parking lot, Grady comes running back. I asked him if he had forgotten something, but no he wanted to make sure I had heard the warning ding, that accompanied the light coming on. I explained I had, what it was for and that his dad could refill it for me tonight. Grady in all seriousness replied "Mum, you don't have to wait for dad, there is a bottle of washer fluid behind your seat"
I look at him incredulously . He actually thinks me - the mechanic's worse nightmare - can refill the washer fluid. The confidence he has in my abilities is stunning. I gently explain to him that I wouldn't know where to put the washer fluid, but refrain from adding that the first time I had to "pop the hood", I had to climb out my van and have the mechanic do it, because I couldn't find the lever. You know, the big red one by my left knee with an icon of an open hood upon it.
I only wish my other children held me in such high esteem.
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