Our lives are pretty good. We live in a nice little neighborhood, with our nice little boy. We drive around in our nice little cars, and have nice phones. We are surrounded by nice things, but they rarely seem to stay nice. Why is it, you ask? Because Amy and I fuck shit up. All the time. We are the ying to nice thing yang. We’re the bull in the glass shop, just waiting for the time to be right, when we can bring the whole house down. I am not sure why we do this, but, after countless episodes of us ruining perfectly good things in our life, I have given up feeling bad when it happens. Here are a few of the more significant fuck ups.
Most recently, I got into a fender bender. On the way home from my stay at home dad’s playgroup, the car in front of me locked up its brakes and hit the car in front of it. I was unable to stop in time, and hit the car in front of me. The car behind me hit me, shoving me farther into the car in front. I thought that it was a bit of cosmetic damage, but an $8,000 repair job later finally restored our car to its original front bumper lustre. Except that Amy, decided to one up me by hitting a column in a parking garage one week after we got the car back from the shop. So much for that brand new bumper! She, in fact, one upped herself as she ripped off the rear view mirror of the car while backing out of our driveway two whole days after we bought the thing. Our car, not so nice.
Our brand new home has also taken a beating. We remodeled our house not four years ago, and it already shows like a run down piece of crap. You can’t read the clock on the oven, because I made nachos once and they caught on fire while under the broiler. I opened the oven door and flames jumped out and licked the console, thus blurring the clock. After putting out the fire, I made another plate of nachos, and bam, those caught on fire too, burning the instrumentation even worse. The only thing worse than having to extinguish a plate of flaming nachos by throwing them into the sink is having to do it twice in succession. I could go on and explain why the ceiling of our kitchen is stained with wine, or why I choose not to fix the leak on the rear door, but it really doesn’t matter. Our house, not so nice.
All this has me worried about how Malcolm is going to turn out. For the most part, we have ruined every nice thing we have ever had. Think I am lying? Ask Amy where her wedding ring is. When you do, she will probably inform you that I have lost three, count them three, wedding rings, and that yours truly doesn’t even wear one anymore because I can’t seem to hang on to the darn things. As for Malcolm, here is already showing signs of wear. (He threw my Iphone in the tiolet!) I can only hope that as he gets older, the teachers in his life will set him off on the right path and that we won’t fuck him up as much as we do the cars and clocks and doors and ceilings in our life.
Tags: trainwrecks
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There is never too high a price to pay for nachos.
Bob and I don’t mess up things ourselves but it seems our girls do. My new bathroom now has a big hole in the wall from where the girls tried to hang on the towel rack.
Oy!
-Meg
We blame many of our broken things on our kid too!