In the past six weeks three of my tires have been attacked by nails. It's not my fault, of course. I'm not sure what they did wrong, but they have apparently made an enemy in their 13 months of life. It's a good thing Z can plug tires! I was a little apprehensive this time when the power drill came out and started making the hole bigger, but all worked out!
How did I know I had nails, you ask? Well, it's simple really; I have an air gauge in each tire that tells my car the pressure. As I am a very anal type A personality, I check them every day and notice when the air pressure goes down by 1 PSI. Then Z gets the call - "I think I have a nail in my tire". After the first one he thought I was kidding. After the second he thought I was crazy. After the third he accepted that he will be forever and always stuck with the task of fixing my messes.
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