so i’ve never changed my own tire before (or anyone’s tire, for that matter). when i was about 17 i remember asking my dad about changing a tire, and he told me i shouldn’t bother learning, because if the lug nuts had been put on by machine, i’d never be strong enough to get them off. okay, case closed. i used that as an excuse for not knowing how to change a tire for the next 14 years. silly, right? (also lucky and surprising that i’ve never been stranded on the side of the road and forced to figure it out). and totally unlike me, to take the “i’m a just a wimpy girl so i wouldn’t be able to do that anyway” anti-empowerment route anyway. as it turns out, that’s silly. Ben walked me through it (showing off for a boy, how could i refuse to do jump in and tackle the project?), and changing a tire was surprisingly easy. and who knew that the car comes with a spare, jack, tire iron, and everything you need, all tucked away in secret compartments within the trunk? awesome. 15 minutes, some greasy hands, and we were on our way.