Our church had a football game with another church this afternoon. It was perfect weather for it, around 65 degrees, with just enough of a breeze to make it feel like November. Mike had so much fun, and he got one great tackle and an awesome, game-saving interception. He loves to play, but I know he loves to win, too.
I waited for the boys to wake up from their naps and then took them out to watch the game. Sammy played in the Pack 'N Play while Griffin ran around with some of the other little boys his age. Then they discovered that there was a big sand pile, and it was all over. Literally. All over the place, all over them, and stuck in some places that Griffin didn't even know existed. The game was held on the high school's football field, which has the track running (ha!) around it, and the sand "pit" was for the people to run and jump into. I know it's a valid sport, I just can't think of the name of it. Long jump?
I know I'll look back at this later and laugh (maybe after we pay the bill), but I ran into my second parked car in about 3 months tonight. The first time was when a guy not quite directly across the street (Cliff), parked his brand-spanking-new black car right across from our driveway. Well, I looked behind me and to both sides like I always do when I back up, and totally didn't see it, wasn't expecting it to be there, and it was dark outside (about 9 PM), so black didn't really stand out all that well. I backed up all the way, looked behind me and realized that his car was awfully close to the back of the truck, and went on my merry way to Hy-Vee. When I came home, however, I just happened to look over at the back of his car as I drove past it, and there was a big dent, probably four or five inches across, on his back bumper. I just KNEW I had backed into it, even though I hadn't felt anything, and I went inside shaking and crying to tell Mike. I believe my exact words were "He's going to KILL me!!!" Mike was sweet enough to go talk to Cliff for me, and Cliff came over while I sat sobbing on the couch and told me it was fine, he was glad no one got hurt, and that is what insurance is for. I was relieved, but I still felt really bad.
Tonight I just felt plain stupid. Everyone knows that the guy that lives directly across the street from us loves his cars to death. He washes them at least once a week, more often if it's warm outside, and takes very good care of them. One of them is a candy-apple-red sports car (Camaro? I can't remember). He always parks it in his driveway. Well, guess what? Tonight he didn't, he parked it in the exact spot that Cliff had parked his car when I hit it before. I got in the truck, looked behind me and to both sides (apparently there is a blind spot in that exact place), and started backing up. Well, I knew it when I hit the car this time. Ugh!!! I don't know how bad it is because it was dark outside, but I know that glass broke and that there is a considerable dent/tear in his car's rear right side. Mike doesn't want to report it to insurance because he says our rates will most likely go up, so we're going to wait and see how expensive it is, and then most likely we'll just pay for it. Oh, great, another bill!
Mike is such a supportive husband, he is truly a blessing to me. He knows just what to say to make me feel better when I have done something stupid. I know he must be at least a little upset about the impending bill that will come from this, but he made sure I knew that he isn't mad at all, and that he's glad I am okay and that no one got hurt (am I having deja vu?)
I really really really want some chocolate right now. I know that would make me feel good. But I'm going to keep drinking my water and tell myself I'll feel better in the morning if I don't.