Friday, April 24, 2009

This is what happens when you give a Moron a driver's license

Said moron? Yup, that would be me. My friends are all laughing at me, so I figured I might as well let my cyber friends join in on the laughs!

Yesterday, Hubby gets home and the girls are asleep. I've got a couple of errands to run (sans kids - wheee!), so out the door I go. I get into the car, turn it on, put it in reverse and my car beeps at me. It then tells me that the right rear passenger door is ajar. Check. Megan got into the car earlier, so that makes sense. (Pay attention now, because this is the part where it gets tricky, apparently) I put the car in park and get out, leaving the door open because I'm getting right back in. I make it all the way to the back of the car and am almost rounding the corner on the passenger side when I think $^%&*^!!! the car is moving! (remember that bit about putting the car in park? Apparently, you really have to do that step!). So, I put both hands on the car to use my super-hero strength to stop it. I don't have super-hero strength. I'm thinking it's because I lack the proper attire; the strength must all be in the cape. Note to self: Get cape. Now my brain starts clicking, so I start to run towards my open door (cue Chariots of Fire soundtrack). As I round the corner on the drivers side I thinking "the door!", "the ditch!" (we've got a ditch somewhat close to our garage). And, then it happens. In slow motion as I'm yelling "NNNNOOOOOO!". My car picks up speed. And then CCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH! Finally, I get in the car and stop it before it actually makes it into the ditch. And, then (and only then), I put the car in park.

So, time to survey the damage. One garage door track - Check. Wooden frame around garage door ripped off - check. Deep gouges in my stucco (so deep you can see the chicken wire underneath) - check. Potted plant - check. Drivers side door - check.

Hubby hears the crash and comes running out thinking I had driven through the garage door. Wrongo, bucko. Garage door was firmly up. HA!

RIP drivers side door. I shall miss you.

So, now, the drivers side door isn't gone, per say. It's merely bent so far forward it's almost flush with my fender. Hubby walks over to the car, pulls on the door and says "Hmmm. I don't think I can fix this". Alrightly then, Captain Obvious!

So, now I'm thinking I can just rock the 3 door SUV look. All Joker like from Batman. One side normal. One side screwed up. 'Cuz except for the door (and a teeny tiny part of the front fender), all's good. Hubby doesn't go for it.

So, he bends the door back around to the normal position (girls must need the capes; boys apparently don't) and the door won't close. In fact, it doesn't even get close to closing. So, he gets out a ratchet strap and uses that to tie the door closed. He then has to get in the passenger side, go over the console to get to the drivers side so he can take it to the body shop. On the way there, he gets stopped by a police officer. Apparently, there's a law on the books that says your door can't stick out farther than your wheel well. Huh.

I am so never going to live this one down!

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