"We're On Our Way to Jiffy Lube, Jiffy Lube, Jiffy Lube..."

As a postscript to Juju's birthday, the week before she was so excited she could barely stand it and kept asking what we had planned? A surprise party with a jump house? A dinner with all her friends at a fancy restaurant? A trip someplace? Lots of presents?

Finally, after several days of resisting her entreaties I confessed that yes, I had planned something, something very special, something I knew she would love.

What Daddy? What is it? C'mon Daddy tell me. Please, Daddy, pleeaassee tell me.

"Alright," I relented. "I can see you're excited, so here it is." Her eyes got very big and she stood on her tiptoes to hear about the wondrous adventure I'd planned for her big day.

"Jiffy Lube," I said.

"Huh?" "Daddy, what did you say?"

"Jiffy Lube", I repeated. "You're not going to believe this, but I've arranged, just for us, a tour of their main headquarters."

"Why, we'll get to see them training people on how to change oil and drain transmission fluid". "We'll learn all about oil filters and gaskets." They may even let us put on jump suits with real grease." "Maybe we'll get our own Jiffy Lube hats!"

Words cannot describe the look on her face.

"Daaaaaaad, stop it. We're not going to Jiffy Lube on my birthday."

"What," I said and with incredulity. "You mean you don't want to go?"

Daaad. Noooo. You're kidding. Aren't you?

"No, I'm not kidding," I persisted. "Do you have any idea how many kids would do summersaults to be able to get their hands greasy and look under the hood?" "Why, I can't wait myself" "It's going to be great!" "Maybe they'll let us wipe down some grease with shop rags!!"

At first, both she and Arik were convinced the whole thing was a ruse and laughed along with Dad's joke. But I persisted, playing it up as the day went on. In fact the closer we got to Juju's birthday the more I talked about how excited I was to be going to Jiffy Lube. And sure enough, first Arik then Juju started asking questions.

Dad, what will we do there? Do they serve lunch? Is it a real factory?

"Oh, yeah. It's real, with car hoists and red tool boxes all shined up and ready for us to look inside." "I bet they'll have more crescent wrenches than Home Depot".

And in homage to the innocence and wonder of childhood, Cathy and I witnessed a marvelous transformation right before our eyes. Cynicism and disbelief turned first to curiosity, then to interest, and finally into authentic anticipation.

On the morning of the appointed time we got up early and packed for what would be a long day. As we piled in the car and headed out the driveway here is what we heard from the backseat:

Dad, how far is it? Do they know we're coming? Do they have a big cafeteria there? Who is going to give us the tour? When do we get there? When Dad!

Suddenly, I could contain it no longer. In a burst of sponteneity I began singing..."We're on our way to Jiffy Lube, Jiffy Lube, Jiffy Lube, we're on our way to Jiffy Lube so early in the morning..."

Within ten seconds -- with genuine smiles on their bright little faces -- they joined in the chorus...We're on our way to Jiffy Lube, Jiffy Lube, Jiffy Lube...."

And so we all sang, right up until the moment we pulled into the Disneyland parking lot. I laughed, and then they laughed and got even more excited when they realized where we were.

It was the best day at Disneyland I can ever remember. It was about as perfect as it gets. But the fact that our two children would be almost as excited to watch oil being changed, so long as Dad thought it was fun, was priceless. For in that moment, anyway, Cathy and I looked at each other and felt like maybe we were doing something right.

It's just an idea, but maybe Jiffy Lube should consider factory tours.