I was trying to be a good wife today. I agreed to take Jon's car in for an oil change even though I loathe sitting in the waiting room at the car dealership waiting for the car to be finished (there's just something about that smell). I got his car out of the garage this morning and started backing up, only to hear a horrible screaching sound. It took me a while to figure out where the noise was coming from, but when I looked over, I saw that I had driven the car the metal fence along our driveway. I got out of the car and frantically started rubbing the white paint off of the car. Things did not look good...I had carved a three foot long scratch along the door, side panel and rear panel of the car. I did what any normal person would do and kept on driving to work.
My coworkers started laughing when I told them what happened. My boss even walked outside to size things up. Her prognosis: "you're not going to be able to cover that thing up very easily." Some other coworkers advised me to blame it on a grocery cart or play dumb, but I couldn't do it. I decided to call Jon to tell him the bad news. I could tell he was really disappointed, but he did a nice job of not blaming me. He told me that it's pretty tough to back out of our driveway because it's so narrow and that at least it's on the passenger side so that he doesn't have to see it every day and that it's just a car and I shouldn't worry about it. It still didn't make things any better.
I have a feeling that this is the last time I'll be driving his car for quite a while.
In the meantime, I'm hoping that my collection of gifts will smooth things over (that, and the car wash did wonders for minimizing the scratch). A Japanese book catalog, a free sushi calendar and a new ginger grater wrapped in Japanese newspaper.
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