girl, please

We've been to our pediatricians' office about eleven times since January 1.  Wish that was an exaggeration.  One of those times, after a sleepless night and traffic and stressing about why our baby screamed all night, I pulled into a parking spot in the parking garage too quickly and overestimated how much space was between me and the concrete pillar.  "Scruuuunnnch."  Urrrghhh.  It ended up not being as awful as it sounded, but I got the driver's side bumper pretty good.   So, just because it's relevant(well, that, and because it's a lot about me), I'm not who you want to make a guess about things...distance, speed, time, measurements.  None of it.

Yesterday, we were going to run inside babies'r'us to get some child-proofing stuff.  No biggie, just out running errands on Mace's day off(Just in case anyone isn't aware, Mace sells cars.  But not only does he sell cars for a living, he drives and parks cars for a living.  Just keep this bit of info handy).  Once we parked, I got Axl out to feed him before we went in.  While I was feeding him, two ladies got into the car on our left and started to drive away - pulling through the space in front of them to leave.  They stopped just after they passed Mace's window and the younger girl hangs out her window and says, "um, excuse me, sir?  did you hit our car??"  I'm sorry, whaaaat?!  Mace told her no, he did not, and she said, "well, then how did you get the scratch on the front of your car?"  Mace told her it happened when we ran into the concrete pillar in the parking deck at the doctor's office(I just told you that).  She obviously didn't believe him, but they ended up driving off...and circling back around to get our freakin' license plate info!  Grrr.  So, Mace hopped out and opened up the back of my car.  He was all cool about it, getting a stroller out of the back for me.  While they(not "new or expecting" in the slightest) sat in a "new or expectant mom" parking spot.  Not cool, girls.  Not cool. 

So, Mace sat on the back of my car and waited while I went in the store with the boys.  I was a wreck.  You could just tell that if we left the would say we hit and ran.  Stressing the crap out of me(not lovely when your arms are two babies full in the middle of a store).  So, we headed back out to the parking lot while I called my sister...whose hubs is a sheriff's deputy.  We decided the best thing would be to call the police so that we could get it "on record" that the damage on our car was completely unrelated to theirs.  So, we called...and apparently, the chicas did too.  Once the cop got Mace's, the girl's, and my story, the second officer measured the marks on both vehicles with his baton.  Thank you, kind sir.  In less time than it took the police officers to get to the store, the first officer told us to have a nice day and apologized.  Said, "she's just being a pain in the ass...she just wants to argue with me."   Well, sir, I'm so glad we aren't alone in those sentiments.  Glad we called them and glad the drama got cleared up.  Good grief.  Girl, don't you EVER try and pin my poorly executed parking job on my man and spin it in your favor!  Also, I'm real happy the officer's baton(snicker, snort!) kept me from having to call the pediatrician's office.  Again.  :-)