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The Sleepy Eye Herald Dispatch - Sleepy Eye, MN
  • What she says

  • Chris and I have different perspectives on many things, but this latest issue just about makes me crazy.

    Since late fall when I made Chris clean out the garage so I?could pull my car in to keep it warm and out of the elements, he has been on my case.

     


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  • Chris and I have different perspectives on many things, but this latest issue just about makes me crazy.
    Since late fall when I made Chris clean out the garage so I?could pull my car in to keep it warm and out of the elements, he has been on my case.
    He says that on nice, warm, paint-fading, sunny days my car does not need to be in the garage. He said if there is no reason to scrape frost off the windows, the car can be left outside in the driveway.
    I disagree.
    I look at the garage as a home for my car. It keeps the interior of the car cooler by being in the garage on warm days, warmer on cold days and saves my paint from fading.
    He says that if I?was so worried about my paint fading I should attempt to wash my car more than once a year.
    I countered with, aside from the elements, having my car in the garage keeps it safe from would-be vandals and thieves.
    He said that once the would-be thieves and vandals looked in my car to see that it is basically a driving dumpster, they would have no interest in stealing it, or any of the contents inside.
    Furthermore, he went on to say, vandals couldn’t possible damage my car much more than what my kids have already done to the inside and hail from two summers ago has done to the outside.
    Okay, hear me out. This is only the second decent car I?have ever bought in my lifetime all by myself.
    I live in my car and I want to attempt to take good care of it, even if no one in my family feels the same way.
    Last time I?looked, I told him matter-of-factly, despite an odd smell  coming from one of the fast food bags, there is yet to be a tear on the upholstery.
    He snorted and walked away.
    I took the snort to mean a win for me.
    Monday evening my son was at the Twins game for a class trip all the way down from the frigid northland of International Falls. After clearance from his teacher, I was allowed to go and see him.
    It took us until the fifth inning to finally make it up to the upper deck behind home plate where his class was seated. Once there, Mason was only interested in picking my pockets for money for food and foam fingers before he gave me the “Mom, you’re so embarrassing,”?look and sent me on my way back to my seats across the stadium.
    I did buy Mason an ice cream that came in a souvenir Twins batting hat.
    Page 2 of 2 - “I’m so glad that won’t end up in the backseat of my car where every other souvenir I’ve ever purchased for the kid goes,” I thought to myself.
    After Mason made a beeline back to his seats and his friends, minus his old, embarrassing Mom, Chris caught up with me.
    Two hot dogs in hand, Chris hands me the extra-large soda in a souvenir cup he bought.
    “I told Mason I would save this cup for him when he comes this summer,” Chris said.
    Throughout the remaining four innings I watched the cup sit in the cup holder, hoping that it was a passing memory and would remain in the cup holder until the cleaning staff at Target Field discarded it.
    After the Indians defeated the Twins 5-1 in the ninth, we got up to follow the crowd out. A quick stretch and a shove  from Chris in the right direction, I saw Chris bend down to pick up the stupid—I mean— souvenir cup.
    That darn cup made it all the way out to the car with us, which is saying a lot since going through that parking ramp on foot made me wonder if we were going to make it to the car in one piece.
    Inside the safe confines of the car, Chris took one last swallow to make sure there was no soda in the bottom and chucked the cup in the backseat.
    I tend to avoid looking in the backseat for fear that I’ll find the garbage pilling up to the back window. Monday evening I took a quick glance. Among the bottles of Diet Dew (ah-hem...Chris) there were Happy Meal boxes, discarded Happy Meal toys, Twins programs from games past, a couple of Lego magazines and souvenirs from the last trip with the kids in the car, and now a souvenir Twins cup that won’t find its way out until I?bring in a fork lift to clean the backseat out.
    I really don’t think I’m asking all that much, considering I let my loved ones use my car as a dumpster, that parking my beloved car in the garage every day is such a stretch.
     
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