Thursday, December 17, 2015

Turkey Day

About a year ago, Husband backed my car into a wall at my son's school. I was out of town and he sent me a picture of the bashed in bumper with an "Oops, the wall bit your car" message or some such thing (which did not qualify as an apology, I mentioned later). And I've lived with the dent ever since. It's only cosmetic, so while I hate seeing it, it doesn't keep the car from running and it will be stupidly expensive to fix just so that my ego isn't bruised when I look at it. And it least it's easy to find my car at the Y parking lot, where there are a million dusty green Toyota Siennas.

A month ago, Husband's car was sideswiped by another and the driver side door was damaged. No one was injured and the car was otherwise fine, so all-in-all, not tragic. But Husband hated the idea of a dent in his door (funny how the shoe feels on the other foot, right?). There was some concern that the other guy's insurance wouldn't pay since Florida is now a No-Fault state and no ticket is issued unless someone is injured or the car is totaled or some other special wizardry that didn't happen in this case. But, amazingly, the driver told his insurance company the truth and Husband happily called me to tell me that his car would be fixed at no charge to us.

Me: "That's great!"

Husband: "Yeah, what a relief!"

Me: "That guy had good insurance."

Husband: "Yes, he did!"

Me: "Too bad the turkey that messed up my car didn't have good insurance, right?"

Husband: "Ha, yeah, right."

We completed the call and hung up. The Girl piped up from the backseat:

"Hey, wait a minute! Daddy messed up your car! You just called Daddy a turkey!"

Me: "Yes. Yes I did."

The Girl found this very, very funny.


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