broken-mirror

My car is a strong indicator of how my life is going. If it’s filled with boxes, bags of books and merchandise to be returned, wrappers, and piles of mysterious items in the back seat, I know I’m running in high gear with no destination in sight, just the peddle to the meddle.

When life really goes awry, the outside of my car strikes back. It all started when I was a fairly new driver still living at home. We had a horseshoe shaped driveway, and we parked on an angle in the middle. You would have to back up into the horseshoe and drive around. It was one of my parent’s friend’s car that got the first swipe when I and backed into their car. I would say it was a fluke, but when it happens more than once, a pattern emerges.

Then there was the time my husband and I were going to an appointment with our financial advisor. I was driving (he has so much faith in me!), and I backed into his car, which was parked on an angle by the way! Needless to say our finances changed a bit that day.

The next time I wasn’t at home, but my mom’s apartment–always a relative. I had a trailer hitch on my Honda Pilot. I backed into this ginormous rock that was at the edge of the parking lot. It wasn’t very decorative and low enough that I didn’t see it. Basically it was in my way and caused a lot of damage.

Rocks and cars aren’t the only objects that my car strikes.  Early in our marriage, my husband noticed white marks usually on the left side of my cars. Pulling into those narrow garage entrances is tough, so I admit to some skimming along the garage trim. I even had an insurance adjustor think that a car hit the side of mine instead of the back, because of all the white paint on the side! Nope! It was my house!

This all came up because last night as I was backing out of my garage, my left sideview mirror had the unfortunate luck of being dismantled by the garage wall. I hoped that it had just popped out of place, but when I shifted it back, the mirror fell out.

When I let my husband know, he clipped the wire and told me to be careful. What a guy! I was mad at myself, as I pondered how the walls could shrink on me like that. I try to take time and notice my surroundings. Stop laughing, Family! Sometimes I don’t even know I’ve hit something, until my husband asks, “Did you hit the generator? It moved away from the wall in the garage.”

I plead ignorance and ask myself, “Who would put a generator where I park?” Really now!

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