I helped her change the tires on her little Honda this summer, so I figured I'd save myself $60 and change the ones on my truck myself.
After spending 45 minutes trying to figure out where to position the jack on the rear of the car, I finally got down to business. I'd asked mom to supervise me doing the first tire, to make sure I wasn't screwing it up royal.
As I lay on the frosty ground, half under my car, jacking it up (at least it was a nice day yesterday) I heard our neighbor's truck start up. He drove out of his driveway, and I heard mom saying "Weber to the rescue." He backed his truck down our driveway and stopped, got out and said, "I will never understand why you people don't just come over and ask for some goddamn help!"
"How did you know what we were doing," I asked.
"I heard you bangin' around over here, and it was just painful to listen to."
He'd brought his electric bolt-unscrewer thingie with him, along with an extension cord, and we used that to finish taking the tire off, then to put the new one on.
"We didn't want to bother you," I said.
"Well, it's not like I'm ever busy or anything."
"But it would be rude to come over and say 'Hey, Weber, we know you have no life, can you help us now?'"
It's true. But he's also like a dad to me. He was my dad's best friend, and dad OF my best friend. It's like a perfect circle.
He complimented me on the job I'd done on my single tire so far, then suggested we throw the rest of my tires, as well as the tires for mom's Expedition, in the back of his truck, take them over to his place, and change them in his heated workshop, using his tire-bolt-unscrewer thingie.
I had no problem with that. It was enough to know I COULD change all my tires by myself if I wanted.
I even got to use the power tool a couple times. It was kinda cool. I felt almost capable for once.