I was running late – again – taking Griffin to school today. I wouldn’t have been late if I would have gotten off the computer a little earlier and if Nathan didn’t decide he wanted his milk to take in the car and Griffin could have decided on a show-and-tell a little sooner than the moment we were walking out the door.
So we finally got in the car, got everyone buckled, and I back out of the driveway without noticing the large Tahoe parked across the street directly in front of our driveway.
Since I knew I was coming straight home, I went ahead and took Griffin to school and checked the damage when I got home. I guess if there is one good thing that came out of this, it’s that the Tahoe got by unscathed. Just my poor little van received yet another scar.
(Is it bad that as soon as I hit the car, I thought, “I’m going to have to go home, take pictures and blog about this”?!?)
I really don’t do these things on purpose – but our 4 year old van has received more than its share of dings and scratches. Last summer, I was packing the van for our drive to Colorado, so I pulled it in at a sharp angle so I could wheel the luggage around to the side door. (We have two very narrow garage doors instead of one big one – something that will not be repeated in the new house!) Weeeelllll, the next time I went to leave, I forgot that I had pulled in at an angle, and the side of the van scraped along the garage door rail and left a nasty gash.
And the rearview mirrors have scraped the side of the garage door more times than I can count. I have to pull it in/back it out very slowly at just the right place to avoid hitting the sides. We used to roll down the window and fold the mirror in before entering or exiting our garage, but that just got to be a pain.
And then one of my children (still don’t know which one) took a rock and decorated the door with a lovely series of x’s and swirls.
And I believe this is where I parked too close to the cart return at Target.
It doesn’t bother me…too much. I’m not above driving a banged-up car. I just wish I wouldn’t do such stupid things sometimes. And part of me would just like everything to be nice and clean and tidy and perfect. I guess I need to prove myself worthy before I start talking to Michael about my lime green convertible VW bug.