"Your thermostat is not opening all the way allowing the coolant to flow through the engine from the radiator," I told him.
I could tell by the tightness of his coolant hose that was leading to the engine.
"Is it going to be expensive?" he asked with a flinch.
He's on a fixed income like me. Every dollar counts. Especially when you are drinking a 12-pack of Social Security sponsored Pabst Blue Ribbon a day.
"$14.99 will buy you a new thermostat at AutoZone and I will help you install it," I told him. "Get some more antifreeze/coolant while you are there."
It was about then that I felt a panic attack on the way speaking of the devil. I walked back inside my house and immediately called my father hoping he was truly off on this his day off.
"Is there any way I can go ahead and take my medications?" I timidly asked with my fingers crossed for extra luck.
Sometimes my father can act funny about my taking them too early.
"Give me thirty minutes," he said to go and get the medications out of his car. "I am in the kitchen cooking."
I drove over and immediately felt better that relief was on the way. It was purely psychosomatic for that matter. Dad was talking about what he was cooking for supper. He had pork chops soaking in a brine solution which he was going to fry for a few moments and then finish them by baking them in the oven. Baked potatoes, biscuits and (Yankee) green beans sauteed in butter and olive oil rounded out the menu. It all sounded all so delicious to me.
"Your mother and I are tired of eating out," my father told me. "The internet is great for cooking ideas."
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