All cars look alike to me.
Someone: “What kind of car do you have?”
The Husband: “A 2014 four-door Ford Taurus”
My brother who does not read my blog: “The V-8 engine in my car has fluid and sporty handling, while allowing me to maintain control….suspension…curb weight…transmission…powertrain….” He could go on and on.
Me: “A gray one”
If The Husband, the doggie and I are walking down the street and our dog stops and sniffs at a car and then keeps going, the Husband will say to me, “do you know whose car that was?” I will say “no” and he will say “OURS” (subtext: dimwit).
Last week we arrived at the Sister’s home after a 2 and a half hour drive from my office. I was inside with the dogs and The Husband pulled the car into the empty spot in the garage.
Shortly after playing with the dogs, we decide to head out for groceries. I pressed the button for the garage door opener and began to walk past OUR car. As I stood between the Sister’s car and ours I look out to the open area where we normally park. “Where’s our car?” I scream. The Husband just stares as I realize I’m standing next to it.
We both laughed and laughed.