I couldn’t fix it. I told my wife that I could, but I couldn’t. It had been two weeks since the radio in our small Cessna had gone out, and I had tried everything to get it to work. My wife had told me last year that we could only get the plane if we didn’t have to purchase new toys for it each year, and in her mind this counted as a toy. So, I was bound and determined to fix it myself. But I couldn’t. Walking slowly next door into Tony’s hanger, I asked him where he usually took his plane when something needed replacing. He told me that avionics repair was pretty difficult, but he usually did it all himself. So, I asked him to walk next door with me. Unfortunately, after looking at my plane, he confirmed my worst fear: I would have to buy a new radio; that one was officially dead. So, I did the only thing that I could do. Did I go home and admit to my wife that I was wrong? Heck no! I asked Tony to buy the part for me and install it. Then I informed my wife that the rent for the hanger had gone up. Now, I pay Tony $20 a month each month until the part is paid off and $20 a month afterward to never tell my wife!