Robby had his enrichment classes yesterday which means that I spent the majority of my afternoon in the car, driving him to and fro. Since it was Monday and his "short class," I opted to stay in the area and run some errands while he was at school. After swinging by Starbucks for an iced tea, I headed to the 3d print supply store. One of Robby's machines is starting to malfunction and we needed a simple replacement part.
Although typically the technical arm of our family, Scott has avoided interacting with the 3d printers. Whenever there is a clog or another type of malfunction, Robby and I are the ones at the kitchen table taking the machine apart. I have become quite versed at troubleshooting and repairing these frustrating little machines. I'm not sure how I ended up wearing the 'repair woman' hat but here I am, living the dream.
Because I work with the machines everyday, I am quite competent picking up my own parts and supplies. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I was so annoyed when the sales clerk at the store kept encouraging me to "phone my husband to make sure I am picking up the right thing for him." Seriously? Assuming that a woman needs a husband to complete a technical repair is infuriating!
I remember being young and car shopping with my mom. Well, I remember going to the lot with her and her being refused a test drive until she came back with her husband. That was in the 1980s. This is 2024. We need to do better.
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