Teaching Our Kids About the Vroom Vroom Machine...I Mean Car Engine

As a father, it’s important that I pass on my extensive knowledge to my children. Not that they really need the complete stats from the 1989 Texas Rangers starting lineup, but it could come in handy one day. But what they could use is my complete and total knowledge of car engines. I’ve seen many of them in pictures, and it is this expertise that they will need in the future so that they too can become accomplished arm-chair mechanics and humor writers.

With that in mind, I took my two teenagers to the garage and popped the hood. By the way, that is the technical term for looking at an engine. You hear NASCAR guys say it all the time. Then the rest of us stop listening because NASCAR is super boring.

Now, let’s get to how the vroom vroom machine actually works.

“Ok,” I said to my kids. “This right here is known as an engine. That’s spelled E-N-G-I-N-E. Or if you’re in Germany, you can put a hard J where the G is. You two guys should be taking notes.”

They were not taking notes. It’s going to be a long day.

Anyway, I continued my lecture because as a dad I’m contractually obligated to not stop once I get going. That would be the end of the universe, which in and of itself is a very big engine.

“This right here,” I said pointing to the dipstick, “is known as the dipstick.” Both of my children looked very impressed. “Let me use it in a sentence. Son, you are a dipstick when you can’t find your shoes when you are standing on them. See how it has multiple uses?” Honestly, they should really be writing this down.

“Now, the dipstick is connected to the oil bone. It’s very complicated, but remember the rhyme ‘Heads, shoulders, knees, and toes?’” They nodded. “That’s really an old mechanic’s shanty they use to sing on the high seas. But no one gets the last verse right. It goes, ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes are all connected to the Oil Bone.”

My next book should be about how to teach your children how to drive. Someone write that down.

“Now oil, as you know, is the lifeblood of the car,” I said.

“Dad, doesn’t it keep the engine lubricated so the gears don’t tear up?”

“Quiet boy, Daddy’s lecturing.”

Honestly, kids are so impatient these days. They can’t even spare thirty minutes for a good car lecture. A topic that I am very sure they are interested in and once they woke up from falling asleep on their feet, I continued.

“Next, see all these pipe-looking things. That’s the muffler,” I said.

“Dad, you said the muffler was the part out the back of the car,” my daughter said.

“Honey, that’s the south muffler. This here is the north muffler. Twice a year on the solstice, engine gases travel from the North Muffler to the South Muffler. You know how birds migrate? Kinda like.”

“Oh,” she said. This is going remarkably well.

“You guys are doing great. Now, can someone tell me why windshield wiper fluid is important?”

Both of my kids thought hard. It is obvious that my words are changing their lives. It’s quite the responsibility to have on one’s shoulder. But where some may back down from the weight of it, others, like me, excel in it.

“When we don’t have windshield wiper fluid in the car, mom gets really mad.”

These are the moments that make you so proud as a father.

“Correct!” I said. “What you need to know about windshield wiper fluid is that is not meant for drinking. I know that it looks like blue Kool-Aid, but it is not. It’s for cleaning windows and for making crystal meth. Probably.”

Honestly, I expected that joke to hit harder. One day they will be watching Breaking Bad and will laugh when they realize what fools they were.

So far, I think this is going very well. We’ve got the basics down. We know how to spell the word engine in two languages, the geography of mufflers, and windshield wiper fluid. It’s time to bring it all home.

“Finally,” I said, “We need to know what to do if the car starts talking to you.”

Now, not many people know this, but cars do in fact talk. They are very sophisticated and if you learn to listen, you can find what they are saying.

“When the car says ‘Clunk, Clunk, Grind,’ it means pull over right now. Or that maybe you need to order a Boston Cream Pie. Honestly, there is some debate about that in the linguistic circles. But for today, let’s just say that it’s time to pull over.”

“What do we do then,” my son asked.

“Good question. I’m glad you were paying attention. The first thing you should do is never call your father.”

I could see that they were taken aback by that question. But that’s ok, again, it’s all part of being a dad.

“You see, I work in the field of car theory. Which means I come up with all the hypotheses about how cars work. And translating theory into practical applications is a completely different department. And one that is probably funded by a secret government program that also specializes in making super soldiers. Or at least super sandwiches. Again, that’s more theory than practical applications.”

Shortly thereafter, my children walked away and decided to never ask me about cars again for as long as they live.

It’s tough being a dad, and some may suggest that we are all winging it as we go along. Nothing could be further from the truth. As everyone knows in their oil bones, dads know everything all the time. Never do we face situations that we have no clue about. Could you imagine if we did and our kids realized that we knew nothing? Why, they would be scared of the world. So yes, sometimes we may BS a little bit, but it’s necessary because, at the end of the day, the kids just need to know that Dad has their back.

Even when the vroom vroom machine is giving them trouble.

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