When I was growing up, little car mishaps were part of life in a household with three kids. There was the time when my older sister nearly totaled our battered Chevrolet Caprice after hydroplaning on a wet road one night. The time that the front end of another unfortunate vehicle clipped her as she was pulling out on a busy road. The numerous times that my younger sister, Grace, inflicted little dents, dings, and scrapes on the family's fleet of transportation.
Luckily, I never really had any fender benders. (Well, there was that ONE time when a guy bumped my car from behind. I can only guess that he didn't notice that the light was still RED. But, hey, at least that wasn't my fault, right?) Well, this weekend, the rent came due.
Mom had come over to babysit while Brian and I went out. Hubs and I decided to take the convertible, as it is the car that makes us feel least like exhausted, sleep-deprived parents. Brian was driving. Allow me to repeat that. Brian was driving. As he was backing out of our garage, he scraped mom's car. I don't know if he didn't see it, got too close, didn't expect it to be where it was, or what. But he gave it a good scrape, trading a bit of paint and even causing a couple of small dents.
Brian was cussing like a sailor and gritting his teeth. I felt really bad about it, both for mom and dad and for us, as we will now be repairing paint and minor dents on TWO cars. (Because if you think I'm allowing scrapes and dents to remain in my precious convertible, you are dead wrong.)
The only upside? I now have a nice little barb to tease hubs with, and I haven't had a good one in a WHILE. It's only been a day or two, and it's already served me verrry well! Hee hee!