The day I became one of the boys

I can remember it clearly. The day I became one of the boys.

It all started with a snowmobile dying a slow death in our neighbor’s backyard - and Nelson asking if he could haul that thing home and resuscitate it.

Imagine his glee (and my horror) when they said yes.

Nelson drove our four-wheeler up there to drag (most of) it back to our pole barn.

Oh dear, I thought, another machine, another set of problems.

But I was going to be positive. Yes, he would learn so much from this experience. As Nelson tore apart an entire 1986 Phazer, from windshield to gas pump to skis, the machine would be born again in the hands of a (then) 14 year old.

And, I, in the aisles of the hardware store.

The first thing Nelson said he needed was two “bushings.” Which I thought this was a huge undertaking - until Nelson explained that bushings are metal tubes, about an inch long and could be found in the drawers in the aisle at the hardware store.

That’s when I knew it was going to be a huge undertaking.

First stop

We headed to Tractor Supply Co. We found the “drawer aisle.” I had no idea what I was looking for, but we both started pulling drawers. I didn’t have to open every drawer, but something deep inside me said I did.

Finally, we went to find a guy in a red vest. We outlined our problem: A snowmobile axle in dire need of a “mod.” We needed a one-inch “bushing.” (I let Nelson say that part.) Yes, yes, the red vest knew just what we meant.

“But first,” he said, “let me ask someone else.”

We were now the beneficiaries of two red vests. They left us at the customer service desk and returned, one from the east, one from the west, and reported that the bushings had been located in the dreaded drawer aisle. Sure enough, we’d overlooked them.

We were ecstatic!

But, wait. The bushings they had weren’t big enough.

“Try Ace,” they said.

Before we left, we picked up a neon orange Carhartt hat for Nelson and a membership to the TSC Neighbor’s Club for me.

Second attempt

We trotted into Ace and found the bushings right away (having learned from our last stop). But, again, we couldn’t find the right size. My need to open every drawer was still strong.

Finally, a woman in a red polo appeared with a tape measure hanging from her wrist. I have to admit: I was impressed as she swung it neatly into her right hand and measured the old bushing Nelson handed her with her left.

She confirmed our 1-inch quest was correct. And she confirmed they didn’t have any either.

“Try Menards,” she said.

Before we left, I found a great sale on seasonal décor and snagged an Ace Rewards membership.

Third attempt

Across the road to Menards we went. Their drawer aisle was twice as big and long, running both sides. It was a long, narrow room, complete with trap doors.

It was also crowded with men. I had to straighten my ponytail just a hair, and shove Nelson first down the aisle, to make myself known.

“BUSHINGS,” I said, too loud and to no one, “BUSHINGS ARE WHAT WE NEED.”

I had no idea what was coming over me. I’m worried I was trying to appear handy.

Nelson shut me down immediately.

“Mom, what are you doing?” he hissed. He was trying to disappear into his Carhartt, his head going into the cap like a turtle. “I’ll find them myself!”

“OK,” I shouted, “BUT I’M HAPPY TO HELP!”

I pulled out about 150 drawers with authority, and he totally ignored me.

A few men moved away from us until finally, a guy in a blue vest approached with a white and green nail apron tied on his waist. I was starting to admire their outfits, noticing things like ease of pocket access and legibility of name tags. Each store had its own vision.

But Menards didn’t have the bushings, not in any of the trap doors.

“Try DeWeese,” he said.

I’d never been to DeWeese, and I couldn’t wait to see their attire.

Last attempt

We walked into DeWeese without hesitation. At this point, we were all-out authorities on drawer aisles. We found the bushings in a nanosecond, were unsurprised to see they didn’t have one big enough either, and instead, dropped the idea (for the moment) and started perusing the shop with interest.

I began chatting with the guy at the key counter while Nelson picked out black spray paint to make the old exhaust pipe new again. I picked up a new windshield scraper in neon green and bought “bloody knuckle” lotion for Tim. He would be pleased to know how I came upon it.

But there was one more place to try: At home, Nelson four-wheelered up to the neighbor’s again and returned about 15 minutes later with some extra bushings they had lying around, at no charge.

How wonderful, I thought, free and right next door, only $10 of gas later.

But, truly, I was pleased. I’d just spent an entire afternoon with Nelson doing his thing and partaking in a scavenger hunt. Plus, the outfits and conversations were stellar.

Nowadays, Nelson is always in the barn, and I’m always on the outside looking in, usually holding band-aids or a fire extinguisher. But I had made myself a part of the team that day - and forevermore - and, I’ve got the “memberships” to prove it.

Now all I need is a red vest.