THIS is why I can't have anything nice....
My precious, beautiful, all-my-own-car....
I love it.
Had a flat tire the within...what? the first week or so. My fault. swerved to miss a squirrel, hit a really big city bump, & got a flat tire. Not fun, but no biggie.
Tonight however, the hubby was parking my beautiful jaguar in the garage, and backed it into the house.
Yes, this fab-o car w/ the rear back up sensor that tells you when objects, you know, or WALLS are behind you...um, he still managed to back it into the house.
Picture this: the cat on the back porch eating.
The dog lazing on the cold tile floor of the laundry room.
The baby, nestled snug in his bed.
Me, on the couch watching "Project Runway" & eating a 1/2 pint of ice cream...when I hear the house shake. Or shift. Or something.
I assume that hubby is home from his evening out.
Go to the garage door, to check out the "sound" that I heard.
...I scared the shit out him. He of course wanted to "check out the damage" before Mama-bear came out.
So of course, I've banned him from my car until his luck changes, and he is responsible for getting it fixed. I don't mean financially---we share $, so that's not it. I mean the headache. The hassle. The taking it into the shop & dealing with car dealerships, etc.
I'm not doing that shit. Period.
So please, if you see me driving down the road w/ a dented ass-end---just know that I didn't do it.
Labels: Conversation from a Marriage