Fix-A-Flat

On Saturday, Carlock came down with a flat. (Carlock is the name of Alexie's car. She named it.) I was busy shooting the neighbor's kids (Bang!) when Dad called me and told me that today was the day I was going to learn to fix a flat.
Dad: Now, pay close attention Duncan. First shake this can of Fix-A-Flat vigorously (he demonstrates) and attach it the wheel. Then press this button.
We stared at the can for a while as it made noise like someone trying really hard to hold his breath.
Dad: Duncan, does it look like it's going in?
Duncan: Oh, sure Dad. (It wasn't, but hey. It was my first time. How should I know what fix-a-flat stuff going through a tube should look like?)
Dad: Hmm...
Dad then decided to take the tube off the tire and that was when the can erupted. Yellow fix-a-flat stuff was splurting out both the end of the tube and the base of the tube. Dad kept trying to reattach it, but it was too late. After all the air and all the chemical was out of the can, Dad depressedly stared at the mess of yellow goop all over Carlock's front tire and the garage floor.
If I were Thomas Edison, I would say, "It's not that I failed to learn how to fix a flat tire, it is that I learned one way not to fix a flat tire!"
Although... I still don't know exactly what was keeping the fix-a-flat foam from going through the tube...