More trouble than they're worth...
Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em...
Eh, I'm out of lame idioms.
Our car has lasted us a while and done us well, to be sure. But in the past two and a half years (or has it only been two?), we've spent more on repairs than we did on the actual car. (Which is a joke, because we got the car for free, but I'm sure we've spent more than we would have if we had paid for it.)
The past few months have included new tires, a new battery, a new alternater, three home-starts and one roadside tire change on our breakdown cover, and another new tire. That happened yesterday.
Scott pulled out of the drive on the way to work and noticed the steering wheel pulling strongly to the left. I dropped him off and headed to the petrol station to air up the tires. It unfortunately wasn't just low air; there was a nail in the tire. Dang it. Thus the roadside assistance. My mum-in-law met me at the petrol station and tried to change the tire for me (she's a real woman), but we couldn't get the jack to work. So a recovery truck arrived and changed my tire for me. Which leads to why we had to buy a brand new tire, as the tread on the nail-punctured tire made it not worth repairing.
But here's the kicker.
The recovery guy? He recognised me. 'Oh, I've been up to your house a few times! Battery, wasn't it?' I could've died.