I bumped the truck tonight. The passenger side door. My husband yelled. The other two times he didn't yell but I guess if you bump the truck a third time yells happen.
So I couldn't swallow my dinner very well. And I couldn't read my computer very well. You know. It's hard to eat or read through tears. But he didn't see me cry because I didn't want to be a baby. And I did mess up his truck. Again.
It's hard to park it you know. It's very big. Plus it's possible I might be a little bit of a bad parker.
Later, he was in his chair and he chuckled. Nothing to do with me of course, but I hurried and kissed him while he was smiling. I did it instead of saying "I'm sorry" because being sorry only works a couple times. I made him laugh and I was happy again.
He loves that truck. This week he just finished changing the oil, doing the brakes, and getting a new leather custom seat cover on the driver's seat installed. What an awful wife I am! He told me next time to get him and he'll park it. I will do that next time. I have to remember, I have to remember. (Bonking myself on the head.) I was going to ask him to come out and park it tonight but I decided I could do it. Oooosh. If only I had listened to myself.
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