Today was just a typical day of sitting in lovely Ames noon hour traffic and checking off my list of holiday essentials:
- Gaudy yet Surprisingly Also Charming Christmas tree skirt -- CHECK!
- Packaging tape -- CHECK!
- Front bumper that could also be used to rake one's lawn -- CHECK-UGH
Yes, it wouldn't be the holiday season without someone in our house doing something incredibly stupid to a vehicle, and this year it was my turn after last year's Beetle-windshield-cracking incident,
which you may remember as one of many costly aspects of our holiday light display. This morning I decided to crank the ole steering wheel a little too early when backing out of my driveway, and next thing you know there's a fence post and a massive evil hunk of concrete driveway conspiring to gnaw a ginormous hole in my poor Honda's front bumper, which I have decided after closer inspection is apparently made out of recycled milk jugs. I am also not 100% convinced there isn't a pack of angry beavers living under the shrubs that is actually to blame.
My punishment for this act of sheer idiocy, of course, is twofold. One: I have to take my car to an auto body shop and pay for a bumper replacement -- and, I can only hope,
drive another lovely loaner car for an unnecessary length of time. Two: Whilst driving around town in the Cherry-Red Hair Pick of Doom, I get to have people stare in disbelief at my car with expressions of sheer terror, gripping their steering wheels all the more tightly as they fear the death wagon that passes them.
But other than that, it's great.
Merry Christmas. Santa's putting a new bumper in my stocking this year. Oy.
