The auto shop where I work sits on the edge of town, the kind of place with cracked concrete floors, oil stains that will never come out, and tools that have been there longer than some of the mechanics. The coffee machine stopped working years ago, but no one bothered replacing it. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest work.
Most days start before the sun is fully up and end long after it sets.
And when I leave the shop, my real job begins.
I’m raising three six-year-old triplets on
