I am known for my ability to get things done and get them done quickly.
Ok, that's a lie. It took months before I took the Expedition to get repaired. Taking care of anything besides poopy diapers, boo-boo's, and markers on the wall at that time required a lot of energy. Like, a lot. The mechanic looked it over and called me at home. I can't even tell you what all the repairs were that had to get done. Almost the entire right side of our car needed something.
Much to my dismay, we had a $1000 deductible and, of course, the repairs cost much more than $1000.
But alas, the day came for me to pick up the Expedition and so Travis picked me up from home and together we went to the repair shop to pick up the car. We arrived, paid the thousand dollars, got the keys, and away we went, me in the Expedition and my husband in his truck.
Now, I am so incredibly nervous when Travis is watching me drive. I just know I'm going to do something, so when we arrived home without a hiccup, I was feeling pretty good. All that was left was the home stretch: backing into the driveway.
Due to the steepness of our driveway, we had to back in. Eh, that's easy. I'd done it a million times. I simply pulled over to the side and...
What was that sound?
And why are my garbage cans moving?
Yup! I drove my car right alongside the garbage cans on the street. I'm thinking, "I wonder if Travis noticed?"
As I get out of the car, Travis approaches the vehicle and says, "Did you just hit the garbage cans?" I let out a small, "yes..." as Travis looked over the car. I'm thinking, "I didn't hit them that hard. Surely there is no damage." But no. There, right where all the repairs were just done from my unfortunate car wash incident, was a L-O-N-G scratch in the paint from one end of the Expedition to the other.
Travis didn't laugh about this, either.