Oops!

This is a post copied from my other blog on Blogger. It was posted 8/25/20 5:09 AM.

In my most recent blogpost, I briefly mentioned a car crash with my mother’s car.

However, I have had another mild fender-bender in the past.
I would just like to point out before I begin the story, that parking in a garage is far more difficult than parking in the driveway or on the street. 

It all happened about a year ago, and I remember it very well.

It was between the middle and end of summer, and I remember because my brother’s girlfriend was over watching a movie with him in the family room. This is an important detail.

I had to leave because I was watching some friend’s dogs for a week and it was getting late so I had to let them out one last time to make sure they didn’t have any accidents overnight. 

Now, I should also mention this to you – upon exiting the door into the garage, the garage door buttons are to the right on the wall, and the cars are on the right.  So, usually, as I walk to the car, I will just slap the garage door button so I don’t have to click around while I’m in my car and about to pull out of the garage.

On this specific night, I remember hitting the garage door button, and I wasn’t really paying attention.  I wanted to listen to a specific playlist and I was looking for it on my Spotify account. I got in the car, put down my phone, buckled up, turned on the ignition, and prepared to listen to some fantastic music, courtesy of myself and The Beatles. I put the car in reverse, and hit the gas.

The garage door was not open.

It does not take much intellectual ability to realize that when you reverse a several ton car into some 35 year old wooden panels, the wood tends to break first.  

So basically, I drove halfway through the garage.

Often times, when things like this happen, they bring you to a sense of reality where you literally have no idea of what you’re physically supposed to do for several minutes.  My first concern was when I was going to be able to let the dogs out of our friend’s house! I still can’t tell to this day if that is a good or bad first thought.

Anyways, I tried to fix it by kicking at the other side of the door, but once I saw the bent interior metal, I knew it was a goner. It was time to deal with it like an adult.

So I walked inside and told my parents.  I also had made sure that there was no damage to the car (just some extremely mild paint chipping on the trunk), and it was entirely functional.  

The garage, however, was not. 

Now, you see, my dad would usually FREAK out, but thank goodness Hadley, my brother’s girlfriend was over, so I only got yelled at in the garage.

I had to help my dad pull down the remains of the garage door and door system for about an hour or two while he yelled at me, and then I went to go let out the dogs.

Luckily they didn’t have any accidents whatsoever 🙂

Despite all the damage done to the garage door, the greatest damage was done to the pockets of myself and my poor dad. Obviously, I had to pay for quite a bit of the garage, but because he hadn’t replaced pretty much anything for 35 to 40 years, we couldn’t just replace the wooden panels and move on with our lives. So of course, that specific garage frame and door no longer existed on the market, and instead of finding a similar door, we had to replace the ENTIRETY of the garage doors.

It has been about a year and I am still in pain from the levels of hurt that did to my wallet.

Anyways, I guess even though it hurt I was totally able to figure that one out.
-mad hattered 

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