Thursday, July 19, 2012


I seem to be saying that word a lot lately.  

"Whoops, I dropped that on the floor.  Can you pick it up?" (usually some bottle of sorts in the bathroom while getting ready)

"Whoops, I spilled watermelon all over the place.  Can you clean it up?"  (we've been eating a LOT of watermelon, and I'm the slicer)

"Whoops, I forgot."  (so not like me)

"Whoops, I hit your car."

Yea, the last one was the worst.

One night a week or so ago, I was driving Caleb's car home.  The only reason I had his car was because he was being super awesome and taking mine to Sam's to fill it up with cheap gas.  It's a tank and drinks gas so we pinch a penny when we can.

As I pulled into the garage, his fancy car made its usual "beep" noise when the sensor got close to something (i.e. my car).  It usually becomes a constant BEEEEEEP when it's getting really close.  (That's when I slow down.)  Unless, apparently, you have already HIT something causing the sensor to fall out.  Then you don't get that constant BEEEEEP.  Whoops.

I hit MY car with HIS car.  My tank was tough as nails and only has a few scratches.  Caleb's little whimpy car was left with this ding:

On the bright side, his car had just had some extensive damage from a recent hail storm and already had an appointment at the repair shop.  I was just trying to give them a little extra business while they had it.  That's all ; )

I gave Caleb a few minutes to cool off, because we know all men have an attachment to their car.  I reminded him that it could have been a lot worse, and at least Wilson and I were okay. 

Eventually we laughed about it.  Honestly, I'm surprised it took me this long (3 1/2 years of marriage) for me to hit one of our cars in the driveway.  

So we should have his car back next week, good as new.


Brooke said...

did this the first month of marriage. whoops is right!

Anonymous said...