Okay, nothing to worry about. Itâ€™s all taken care of.
I explained the oil predicament to Joanne as soon as she and Doug got home. â€œProbably nothing to worry about,â€ Doug said, â€œHow farabove the safe line is it?â€ I held up a thumb and forefinger. He shrugged.
â€œDoug,â€ said Joanne in that voice all wives have of saying their husbandsâ€™ names when they think they ought to do something.
Doug looked up. â€œWhat?â€
â€œSheâ€™s got too much oil in her car,â€ Joanne stated the obvious.
â€œWell, then, she needs to take some out,â€ answered Doug. He looked at his wife and then back at me. â€œCome on,â€ he said, finally, leadingthe way down to the basement. â€œIâ€™ll show you how.â€
We approached the car armed with an old sheet, trouble light, and plastic oil collector. â€œGet the toolbox out of the back of the Suburban,â€ Doug instructed me, â€œIâ€™ll go get an extension cord.â€ I did as he said and then spread out the sheet beneath the carâ€™s hood. There wasnâ€™t much room. Doug reappeared and then ducked into the bushes in front of the house to plug in the trouble light. â€œNot much room to spare,â€ he observed as he slid himself slowly under the engine. Placing the oil collecter beneath the oil pan, he said, â€œThereâ€™s the plug. It looks like itâ€™s leaking a bit. You have to take the plug out and let about a quart drain. Know what a quart looks like?â€ I nodded and shrugged simultaneously. â€œIf the plug falls out, just pick it up and try to stick it back in. But try to hold onto it. Hand me a five-eighths inch wrench,â€ he ordered. I dug through the tools on the top tray of the toolbox searching for one. â€œNo, thatâ€™s not gonna work. Try a nine-sixteenths. I might as well do it since Iâ€™m under here,â€he muttered, loosening the screw. Viscous, black liquid slowly oozed from the bottom. Then the plug came out, and oil shot into the container. I guessed that I didnâ€™t really know what a quart looked like with the amount Doug was letting out. â€œOkay, check it,â€ he said. I pulled the dipstick out, wiped it, stuck it back in and examined it. Nothing.
â€œUh, thereâ€™s nothing on there.â€
â€œAre you putting it in all the way?â€ he asked. I told him,yeah and tried it again. Still nothing. Doug climbed out from under the car and checked it himself. â€œYou got any oil? he asked. I opened the trunk and fished around. I did have oil. Three quarts, to be exact. Along with some stuff in an antifreeze container and the soup. Doug put a quart in, half a bottle at a time, and checked it. Then he put another half a quart in. â€œHow often do you get it changed?â€ he asked, â€œWhenâ€™s it due for another change?â€ I opened the driverâ€™s door and looked at the sticker in the upper left hand corner of the windshield, then down at the speedometer, then back up at the sticker.
Doug grinned. â€œGuess youâ€™re all set then?â€
Now I have to figure out what to do about the battery.