The drain plug came loose a lot faster than he expected, and a warm stream of old oil ran down his wrist and into the sleeve of his hoodie. He said a word I'll leave out. Then he said, "Okay, that's why you told me to keep my arm out of the way." Yes. That's why.
That was last Saturday in our garage, with the Civic up on jack stands and me sitting on an upturned bucket handing him tools. It was his car, so it was his oil change. I've been doing my own since my dad showed me in 1994. This was the first time I didn't touch a wrench.
The 2012 Civic with the 1.8 takes a little under four quarts of 0W-20 with a new filter, so we bought four quarts and he'll keep the leftover for topping off. I let him do the shopping at the parts store, with the receipt to prove it:
- Four quarts of 0W-20 synthetic: $22
- Oil filter: $8
- Drain plug crush washer: $2
Total, $32. The quick-lube near the school wanted a good bit more than that for the same oil, and he'd have spent the hour in a waiting room anyway. The Civic was at about 145,800 miles, roughly 3,800 since the oil change we did the first weekend we owned it, so he was due.
The order of operations
I made him say each step out loud before he did it. This is the same thing we did on night drives, and it works for the same reason: I know where his head is without hovering.
Warm, not hot. We drove it around the block for five minutes so the oil would flow, then let it sit for a bit. Hot oil burns. Warm oil just ruins a hoodie.
Up safely. Floor jack on the front jack point, then jack stands under the pinch welds on both sides, then lower the car onto the stands. I had him shake the car before he went under it. Never under a car on just the jack. That's the one rule in our garage I don't negotiate.
Drain. Pan underneath, a little toward the back because the stream arcs out. Loosen the plug with the wrench, then the last few turns by hand, pushing in as you turn, and pull it away fast. That last part is the lesson he learned with his sleeve.
Filter. On this engine it's at the front, reachable from underneath. He spun the old one off, wiped the mounting surface clean, smeared a little new oil on the new filter's gasket, and threaded it on by hand until snug plus about three-quarters of a turn. Hand tight. No wrench.
The drain plug lesson
The oil down the sleeve was the dramatic part, but the real lesson was the washer. Honda uses a thin aluminum crush washer on the drain plug, and it's designed to squash once and seal. The old one was stuck to the pan when he took the plug out, and he almost put the new one on top of it. Two washers, half crushed, is a slow leak waiting to happen.
So: peel the old one off, check it's gone, new washer on the plug, thread the plug in by hand all the way first so you know it isn't cross-threaded, then torque it. I let him use the torque wrench I got for Christmas, set to the spec in the owner's manual. The amount of force needed is a lot less than people think. Overtighten a drain plug on an aluminum oil pan and you get a much bigger bill than $32.
Then down off the stands, oil in, a little less than the full four, wait a minute, check the dipstick, top up to the line. Start it, let it run, look underneath for drips. None. Shut it off, check the dipstick again.
About an hour
Start to finish, it took him about an hour, including the time spent washing his arm. It takes me 25 minutes on the Silverado, but I've done a hundred of them and the truck holds 8 quarts. He'll be faster next time.
He wrote the mileage and date on a piece of masking tape on the inside of the driver's door jamb, and I made him start his own maintenance page in a notebook. He asked if it could be in his phone instead. Fine. As long as it gets written down.
The old oil went into the empty jugs and back to the parts store for recycling. The hoodie went into the wash twice. Rusty sniffed the drain pan, decided against it, and went back to sleep by the garage door.