I was about Three years old. hanging out at my grandparents like I did every day. my Grandpa comes in the house and yells

Grandpa; “Hey logan want to come help me and your uncles change a tire.”
I said: “sure Grandpa.”

Inside I was more excited than I could handle I get to go help the big guys do some man work instead of helping my grandma with stuff. We walk up the road to my uncle’s. My grandpa telling me how to change a tire while we are walking. Me smiling as big as I could I loved spending time with my Grandpa. We got there and they started to work and I tried my hardest to help.

Jim; “man this tire sure is on there.”

They fought that tire and finally they got it off. Which, seemed like forever but i'm sure it was only like twenty minutes. They sat there under the beaming hot sun. Taking the lug nuts off one by one. Tell finally they were all of and the tire was off showing nothing but the rust colored brakes and axle. Finally they grabbed the tire which looked super heavy at the time. Right then and there is when I realized that i wanted be a mechanic when i grew up and that I loved to work on cars. It seems like a small thing but to me it was a huge.

Grandpa: Let’s go get a pop
Me: Sounds good
Then we went to McDonalds like we did everyday.