Is anyone else ever nervous when they back out of their garage? I’m always scared to death I’m going to hit something. I get that feeling in my stomach where it feels like I’ve just suddenly dropped 10 stories.
So, here’s the deal. My hubby and I take turns parking in the garage. Do we have a one-car garage? No. Embarrassingly enough, we have a 2.5 car garage. But somehow, all of our crap takes up the equivalent of 1 and a half cars! It really isn’t all that unorganized either. We have floor to ceiling shelves that line one side of the whole .5 raised side, then we need room to walk and get to the shelves. But, you do have to walk around the huge Taylor Tot-size battery-operated Hummer and the Radio Flyer wagon, because you just look at that wagon, and who can rid of such a thing? Apparently, not me, despite offers. So, on the other side where a typical car would usually go, are our bikes. I have one, hubby has one (his takes up the most space), older tot has one, and younger tot has two – don’t ask. Therefore, hubby and I have to take turns parking in our 2.5 car garage – I know…kinda pathetic.
So, he gets to park his fancy smancy car in the garage when it’s hot, but as soon as the temperature drops to 60 in the mornings, he gets the boot. This is because he is cold tolerant and I am so very not – that’s why I live in Texas. On the flip side, I can handle the heat – I guess that is also why I’m the one that cooks. Ba dump bump. And, he really isn’t heat tolerant, so I’m not sure why he wants to live in Texas?
Any who, he argued for years that he deserved to park in the garage because he was the one with the expensive car, with the blah, blah, blah, whatever. While I, on the other hand, have a very practical car – a typical suburban mom car. It’s a Honda – how very mom of me. It’s a Pilot so that I can shuffle the Taylor Tots and their friends around – also very mom of me. AND, it’s silver – to hide the dirt – also very mom of me. And it looks like every other car in our suburban town. In fact, I often get mine confused with the others and go to the wrong frigging car. Yes, you would think that the gigantic (the only size they sell) stickers declaring my child’s name and favorite sport might be a hint, but alas, no, not so much.
Hubby, meanwhile, has the expensive car with the yadda yadda whatever. I just know that it’s cool and goes really fast. So, hubby had traded in his two-seater Porshe for a much more family friendly (well, it has 4 seats) Beemer, that, I found out, is faster than the Porshe that he had (this self-sacrifice thing is looking rather dubious). So, four little months after he sacrificed? his Porshe for the good of his family, I back out of the garage to take the kids to school, and take out the ENTIRE right side of his car with the left side of mine. It caused quite a bit of damage. Oops! (BTW – LOVE my insurance agent)
In my own defense, I was recovering from the flu or some such debilitating illness, and he really should’ve gotten out of bed to take the kids to school anyway. So, really, it’s all his fault. What’s so bad about it is that I did take out the ENTIRE right side of his car. Everyone asked, “Didn’t you feel yourself hitting his car?” Well, no, I didn’t. I felt my car go over the little hump in the garage that separates the garage floor from our driveway, and then, well, by the time I realized that I was taking out his car, I had already made it to the end. Did I say, oops?
So, you can see why my stomach always falls when I back out of the garage. And, even if I hadn’t hit a parked car, you have that whole side of the garage thing to worry about. Which, to be fair, several of my friends have had issues with – just look at their cars before they get them fixed. Sometimes it’s their side-view mirror, sometimes it’s the whole side of their car, sometimes, it’s forgetting to put it in park and rolling into the garage and taking out the little column thing separating the garages (see, at least, I didn’t do that!) So, clearly, this is an issue that builders should look into. Maybe it’s their fault?
