Yesterday I came out of yoga to a flat tire. Thankfully it's not something that causes me anxiety as my dad made sure I knew how to change a tire before I could get my driver's license. And since then I've changed at least half a dozen flat tires.
Only I couldn't get the jack out of the cleat - or whatever it's called - that was holding it. No matter how I pulled, tugged, pushed, it wasn't coming out. So I called DH to come help me. I hated doing it. Especially since I know how to change a flat tire.
There's just something I don't like about having someone help me with a task I know perfectly well how to do and am capable of taking care of it on my own. Some might call it a streak of stubbornness.
Personally, I prefer to think of it as a streak of independence cause that's what it is.
Though I have to say, I am grateful to have a husband so willing and quick to help.