A couple of months ago we were all in the car, and brakes made an audible squeal, the one that’s the tell-tale sign that it’s time for new brakes. I, clearly the most car-savvy of the bunch, said, Sounds like we should get the brakes fixed. Chris says, No. They’re fine. We don’t have the money to be dropping $200 on brakes just because of a little squeal. Hrm, well ok then. So fast forward to a month ago. We’re all in the car and the brakes make a grinding sound. I, clearly the most car-savvy of the bunch, said, Sounds like we should get the brakes fixed. Chris says, No, the brakes are fine. There’s nothing wrong with a little grinding. We’ll get them looked at before winter, but we just don’t need to be spending money on stuff like that. Well, alright I guess. So fast forward again to last week. The brakes are now make a horrendous grinding sound, metal on metal, the car shudders when the brakes are pressed, it’s bad. So I try again, you know, I think we REALLY need brakes. Chris says, yeah, maybe we do. Yeah, ya think? So I made the appointment for 8:00 a.m. Chris leaves for work at 5:30 a.m. and I still don’t have my license back, so I asked Dave to help me out. He agreed, and I told him how simple this would be. All he’d have to do is go switch cars with Chris and bring Chris’ car to the garage. The garage would call me when they had the price, and I’d pay it over the phone with my credit card. He’d switch cars again with Chris, the whole thing shouldn’t take longer than 2 hours. Easy enough right? I wish.
At about 7:30 that morning, I’m sleeping soundly. I know that since the car is in the garage, I’ll be going into work late, so I’m catching up on some much needed beauty sleep. The kids are sleeping, it’s gloriously quiet. Then the dogs start barking. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a Pomeranian and a Puggle (Pug/Beagle) barking, but it’s like a shrill, high-pitched screeching bark from the Pomeranian, and a low howling bark from the Puggle. It’s probably one of the most annoying noises on the planet, especially when you’re sound asleep. So I’m refusing to open my eyes, and I yell, shut the hell up! They both lay back down and are quiet for a few minutes. Then they start barking/screeching/howling again. What the fuck is wrong with you two?! SHUT THE HELL UP! Vivvy (the Pomeranian) is barking so furiously she’s literally hopping in circles and Layla (the Puggle) is running back and forth between the bedroom door and the bed howling like a werewolf. Then I hear a pounding coming from downstairs. By now I’m pissed. So I go stomping down the stairs, expecting to find one of the kids has gotten up and has forgotten that we don’t wake Mommy up before 8:00 on a sleep in day. I get to the bottom of the stairs and through the window of living room door I see this shadow of a man standing on our front porch. I don’t know whether to be terrified or really pissed, so I fling open the door and there’s Dave. Standing on my porch. I’m like, What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the garage with the car. Wait…how the hell did you get on my porch? (we have a glassed in sun porch with a dead bolt on the front door that leads to the living room door, so you can’t just walk up to the living room door from the outside without going through the sun porch). He says, all nonchalantly, oh, I just broke in. I lifted up the windows and crawled in. What. The. Fuck. Who breaks into someone else’s house? Ever heard of a telephone? He says, I couldn’t remember how I was supposed to pay them, and I called your cell phone, you didn’t pick up, so I broke in. You said I couldn’t have a key… Geesh, I wonder why you can’t have a key, you fucking freak.
I told Chris, who thought it was hilarious. He thinks that Dave and I have the most dysfunctional relationship ever for two divorced people and it never ceases to amaze him when Dave does this kind of stuff (which he does all the time). He didn’t find it nearly as funny when it cost almost $350 at the garage for the brakes. They had to change the brakes, pads and rotors. They were like, well, we probably wouldn’t have had to do the rotors, but it looks like you’ve been driving on them like this for a long time. Hrm, what are the words I’m looking for here….oh yes. Told you so.
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7 comments:
I don't think anything is sweeter than being able to say "I told you so."
And you know, "I told you so" just never gets old! Man, I love being right.
Ah... exes. Can't kill 'em, so you can only blog about them!
I came by to welcome you to SITS! We're happy to have you with us!
Just like a typical male that the first response is that the noise is no big deal. Even if it is a horrendous screech.
Stopping by from SITS to say say hi and welcome! I know that you will enjoy being a part of this vibrant community of bloggers!
carma :-)
I wish the I told you so wasn't so expensive.
Welcome to SITS!
So expensive? Psh. Of all the things she's said "I told you so" about, 300 bucks was PRACTICALLY nothing.
Can you really put a price on "I told you so"? I don't know, but I'm thinking that I can milk this one for awhile!
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