Last night, Natalie and I had planned to go to Menard’s to look at dehumidifiers, filters for the heater and maybe a standalone AC unit for the house.
Later, we found ourselves too tired to actually make the trip. There’s something about Menard’s that just drains our energy when we’re there. It’s one of those stores where we’re pumped when we get there, but then we spend so much time trying to find what we’re looking for and getting interested in other things that before we realize it, we’ve blown an hour or more there and are exhausted.
Being already in a state of low-energy, we decided to forgo the trip.
As I was sitting in the kitchen with Natalie and looking out the window, I noticed that her car was not parked in the garage.
“Why didn’t you park your car in the garage,” I asked.
“I thought we were going to go out, but then we decided to stay home,” she replied.
“Do I have enough room to get out tomorrow morning,” I asked again.
“I parked on my side of the driveway,” she answered.
…so you can see where this is going…
Thursday mornings, I have a business networking meeting at 7am for which I am habitually 5-10 minutes late. For those of you not in-the-know, mornings and me don’t quite see eye-to-eye.
This morning was no exception as I dashed out the door to get to my meeting. We have an unattached garage, which means I go out the back door, enter the garage from its side-door and hit the garage door opener on the wall. Normally, I go back outside and walk around to my car because Natalie’s car is also parked in there and rather than squeeze by the two cars, it’s easier to just go around… but this morning, I dashed straight for my car, uninhibited by any vehicular obstructions.
I stepped in my car, checked to make sure the car was in neutral (another story for another time) and backed out, watching my driver-side mirror to make sure I didn’t wipe it off on the side of the garage.
I heard it before I felt it: the crinkling/crunching/cracking/breaking sound of something that was sure to be expensive later.
The thing about running into one of your own cars with your own car is that you have to get both of them fixed. If you run into someone else’s car, you feel like a dumb-ass, but you only have one car to deal with since Michigan is a no-fault state.
If you run into your own car, you feel even more dumb-asser.
That was me this morning at 7:04am.
Frustrated, I stormed into the house to get Natalie’s keys and move her car so I could get to my meeting. Of course, all the commotion woke her from bed and she came out to see what had happened and why I was storming around.
By the time she made it outside, I was already coming back in to put her keys back. Seeing her outside and since I was already running late, I decided to toss the keys to her.
Quick tip: when angry, never toss keys to your spouse. You might toss them harder than you expected and hit her square in the face with them.
“I’m going to pay for that later,” I thought to myself as I quickly apologized in even more frustration on my way back to my car to squeal out of the driveway and be on my way to my meeting.
Interestingly enough, I couldn’t concentrate at the meeting this morning as we were voting on new officers and deciding on a move of location. I was a little rattled. Figures, since it was a day we needed to make all kinds of important decisions. I think I ended up volunteering to be the Event Coordinator and on the Member’s Committee. I couldn’t tell you for sure, though. Maybe I’m the President, I dunno. I vaguely remember hearing someone say, “ok, Paul will serve as our next president.”
Anyway, it turns out the damage to the cars wasn’t horrible. My rear passenger-side fender is scratched up and will need some paint and Natalie’s front driver’s-side parking light is busted. We have a guy at our shop who is going to try to find the parts we need at a junkyard. All-in-all, it probably won’t be a shockingly horrible expense. Hopefully, I’ll get away with a few hundred bucks in repairs/paint cover-up for both cars.
As for smacking my wife in the face with her own keys, last night I told her she could spend $100 on some new Pampered Chef things. She asked, “why are you being so nice to me?”
There really was no reason but I should have gazed into my crystal ball and responded with, “because tomorrow I’m going to whip your keys at your face after smashing your car.”