I’m sad to say that the world has vandals in it. I'm positive that somewhere there is a nasty baseball bat-wielding psycho who is just waiting for an opportunity to go out and beat Minnie to a mini-pulp. Maybe slash her tires, give her a few good whacks in her private areas, and break her cute little sunroof. Or maybe kidnap her altogether. These thoughts have inhabited my head since we brought Minnie home. The first night, I dreamed about a hoodlum with a bowling ball who attacked a row of minis lined up side by side. It wasn’t pretty.
We decided to accomplish the impossible. Clean out the garage. This has never before been done in my family, park a car in an actual garage. The garage is our Crap Receptacle. Everything that we don’t know what to do with goes out in the garage. And when I say goes out, I mean goes out, sometimes hurled out into the nether regions of the garage from the kitchen door.
Periodically, George and I clear a path and straighten up, organize the crap but it seems that in little more than a few days, it looks like a dump again. Oh, there might be a nice trail running through it, but as far as a car, Naaa!
This makes the garage rather unsightly. It also means nothing bigger than a breadstick could fit into it with regularity. It seemed that our Minnie was doomed to be left out in the elements.
Me: "George it is pretty small. Let's see if we can get it in the front door. "
George: "Minnie will not fit in the front door." However, being that I am spacially challenged, he kindly showed me that indeed, Minnie was wider than our front door. Besides, she does not bend in the middle to go around the corner to get in the front. So that was out.
Me: "OK let's put it on the back porch. It won't be totally inside but it will have a roof over it. We can just cut a bigger hole in the screen."
This time, George just ignored me. He started hauling stuff out of the garage and seeing how he could arrange it to fit a Minnie in it. By the time I got home from work the next day, he showed me proudly what he had accomplished. It looked small but a driver such as George, with me in front guiding him, could park Minnie in the garage. Just in time. Tornado watch and lots of rain approaching. So today was the day.
I go to the front of the garage and motion him to pull in. He pulls in but ignores my frantic signals to stop because he is flattening a trash can. We now have an oval trash can. Well, it turns out that the reason he stopped is because he has to get to exactly a certain part with a little side area cleared out so he can exit the car. Otherwise he will have to emerge through the sunroof.
|There are better ways to get out of a car.|
So tonight Minnie is as snug as a bug in a rug. Tomorrow we will practice backing her out.