Okay, it’s not really “her” car – it’s her grandparents’s. So they are happy to let her drive it. One day, they might even sell it to her at a family price. I don’t like the quickie oil change franchise stores, and instead prefer to use my regular mechanic. That was great for the car, since it has a nasty engine squeak we wanted checked out. I waited until the rain let up this week, then tossed my bike in the truck bed with the intention of cycling back home while the mechanic did his work.
Here’s where the problems started.
I turned on the engine, and the CD player was blaring! Okay, my daughter’s in collage. I’d done the same thing when I was her age. I turned the volume down, and listened to Abba as I drove.
On the way to the mechanic, I noticed the gas gauge wasn’t just low, it was on empty! Damn. I pulled into the nearest station and put ten bucks in the tank. (My daughter later told me she was trying to stretch the gas out one more week. She’d get in the car and verbalize her wish: “Come on, you gotta hold out for one more week!” Damned if that didn’t work for her.)
When I dropped off the car with the mechanic, and pulled out my bike, it started raining. Doh! No worries, I could dry off at home. But wouldn’t you know, it didn’t just rain, it poured – and only during my ride – drenching me to the bone. The rain let up as soon as I arrived at my house.
A few hours later the mechanic called. Bad news. The rear tire tread was too low for the car to be safely driven (especially in the rain), and the front tires were 1/32” away. He doesn’t sell tires – so this is like a massage therapist noticing you need a root canal. Just take care of it soon!
But wait, there’s more! That squeak? Belt tensioner needs to be replaced. Belts too.
Oh, and the front brakes are pretty much gone.
WTF!
What kind of grandparents lets thier granddaughter drive a death machine like this!? (just kidding).
No worries, all these things can be repaired. Right? Um… for $600. Not including new tires.
Okay, at this point I wondered why I suddenly have to pay to fix problems that already existed on a car I don’t own. I tell the mechanic to hold off, and I call my ex.
Turns out we can buy the car from her dad if we want. She can negotiate him down to cover some of the repairs. Blue book value is $3500. So now I’m looking at $1750 for my share, plus some portion of tires and repairs.
WTF! This was supposed to be an oil change.
My ex and I talked things over. We both didn’t want to dump that sort of money into our daughter’s car. I mean, what happened to riding your bike everywhere, getting a job at Taco Bell, saving every penny until you could afford your own wheels? Oh, that’s right. We live in California where some kids are given new Beemers when they turn sixteen.
My ex and I agree that we need to make a plan – between us, our daughter, and the grandparents. Who will pay for what. Who will own the vehicle. Who will be responsible for maintaining it going forward.
Does this sound like a chance to let our daughter learn about fiscal responsibility? Oh, yeah!
I broke the news to my daughter, and she took it in stride.
“It sucks being a responsible adult,” she said.
“Ha,” I said. “We’ve got you on responsibility training wheels. Wait until you’re out there on your own!”
Quarter tank of gas: $10
Oil change: $42
Life lesson for a teen about fiscal responsibility: Priceless
[Read the followup post: Get a Job!]
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