Last night on the way home, I felt like there was something wrong with the breaks in my car. Like every time I stepped on them, they took a really long time to work. Kind of scary, especially with a kid in the car. So I called Wade when I got home, who was none too happy about the news.
M: "I think something is wrong with my breaks, its like they are not working."
W: "I'll take a look when I get home"
He arrives home and takes the spaceship out for a spin.
W: "They are squeaking, and maybe a little loose. Call the place tomorrow (I just got new breaks a few weeks ago) and tell them you want the to take a look at them." (What? Me call? That's another story for another day)
M: "Ok, I'll call, but I'm not paying them...rant, rant, rant."
This morning when I got in my car, I called Wade.
M: "I don't think there's anything wrong with my breaks, I think it might have been the shoes I was wearing."
W: "What do you mean? What kind of shoes did you have on?"
M: "Just these little flats that sometimes make my feet feel numb, so maybe I thought I was pushing on the break harder than I was actually pushing"
W: silence
I arrive at Mimi's and have to put my emergency brake on because she has a dip at the end of her driveway. Ooooooops! Last night I parked in the same spot when I picked up Elle and I had to put my brake on then too. And I didn't realize it was on until I was a block away from home.
Probably not a good idea to mention that to Wade, right?
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