We have lived in this house for almost 27 years. During those 27 years I have parked the car in the garage maybe five times. The garage is used as Mr. Fixit’s workshop, my laundry room, and his storage facility for tools and his irreplaceable treasures like old, broken thermostats from almost all the cars we have owned during the 43 years we’ve been married. This week something different has been added.
Monday morning I discovered that my CAR was in the garage. I never asked to have my car parked in the garage; it seemed the impossible dream. Confidentially, I don’t think Mr. Fixit cleared the space just for me; the sap from the pecan tree was making a mess of his truck. He cleared the space so he could park in the driveway where I usually park away from the pecan tree.
Whatever the reason, I’m so glad he did. I didn’t realize what I had been missing. When I get in the car, I don’t have to bake until the AC begins cooling, and I don’t have to use a towel in order to touch the steering wheel.
Can it last? I don’t think so. I’m sure that I will again be parking in the driveway when Mr. Fixit begins a new project. Until then, I’m going to enjoy it for as long as I can and try not to moan and groan about getting inside my car when the temperature tops 145 degrees in it.
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1 comment:
What a nice surprise for you!
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