Angus (The Black) has pooped out on us. For the last several days, every morning, the engine light has come on on the way to Ian's work. Every morning he has used the little gadget to find out what it is, and he has got the same code each time. Although he can change oil with the best of 'em, and is very handy with his hands, he didn't know what the code means. The first time he figured the care just hiccuped (I didn't know they did that), but after the 4th day in a row, I convinced him to call the dealership. When he called them, they were quite concerned, so Ian tried to make an appointment for next week. They said no, come in tomorrow. Yikes. So, Angus (The Black) is going to the doctor tomorrow, and I have not been able to drive him at all today. I did take him to swimming lessons, and the way he was acting, I wasn't sure that we would make it home. I cant imagine being stranded on 97th street with the baby. It would have been quite distressing to say the least. Anyways, we made it home, and haven't gone out since. It's really too bad, I needed to go buy Ian a gift and card for our anniversary, I'm not sure how I will manage it before Sunday now. The woman at the dealership told Ian what the code meant, and Ian figures that the part alone is $600-800. I say again, Thank God for extended warranties. It just paid for itself.
In other news, someone asked me the other day if the police in London still don't carry guns. I said that I wasn't sure, but I thought that they do. I can safely say after watching the news today, that yes, the police in London do indeed carry guns. I spoke with my somewhat intolerant father about it today, and even he agreed that it would be a terrible thing if they shot some poor Arab looking fellow who was wearing his winter coat on the subway today. I'm sure that they had good reason to shoot that guy, but I always wonder how they can be so sure that they have the right person when they are shooting a man to death.