Mike and I went to our first Puppy Class. We had a blast! Then we had a bang.
Lorna and I had decided it was Feed Your Own Damn Self night. While I was gone, Lorna would make something disgusting (usually egg and/or mushroom related) and I would pick something up while out. On my way home, I debated the various places and decided Wendy’s was the least dangerous to my exhausted system. Ha. First, I did the drive-thru. I got a #8 (bacon/chicken/cheese sammich with fries and a coke) and pulled into a parking spot to eat. Problem was, the chicken was their spicy (which Lorna says isn’t spicy at all but my delicate mouth disagrees!). I figured I could eat it anyway but didn’t get very far. I went inside and got another, making sure it was not spicy. Went back out and finished eating. Mike discovered french fries and decided he liked them. After finishing the sammich, I drove around the place to get in the exit lane. In front of me was a big-ass Ford truck. We waited a short while and then….the truck started backing up.
I laid on the horn but it was too late. We were only a few feet apart anyway. The truck was so high and the Subaru so low that all it did was hit the hood. We pulled to the side and checked everything over. Since the hood opened and closed just fine, we all decided to just go home. Meanwhile, the woman was smacking the snot out of her husband. “You will NEVER talk about how bad my driving is EVER again.” (smack) “EVER again!” (smack) She had me laughing and him wincing. Their kid was playing with Mike through the window. The man had his wife drive instead. As they pulled away, she was hitting him again. Mike, meanwhile, had eaten all the fries.