I may be very old, and maybe I do have a particular kind of OCD, but I really do like checking my levels and depths.
If Mrs Bangernomics, as I like to call her, is off on a journey without me, I feel compelled to get the tyre pressure gauge out, check the oil and water levels and make sure all the lights work.
Yes, I think I am odd, but I feel compelled to do it. I even look at the tyres, because back in the old days that is what people used to do. Every week my dad would pop the bonnet and check the vital signs on his Vauxhall Wyvern, Morris Oxford, Hillman Minx and Audi 100LS, to name just a few of his cars. Then again, he drove an insane amount of miles every week to feed and clothe his family.
However, on my in-laws' side of family I know that they don’t ever check anything. Indeed, in the past 12 months I have told an in-law that a couple of their tyres were bald enough to be illegal, changed a flat and reinflated a mate's tyre.