Last summer, I took my husband's (Mac's) chainsaw to be repaired. The gas had been left in it for over a year, and it had siezed up. After picking it up from the hardware store, where we had an extended conversation about the proper care of chainsaws ("you're lucky we could fix it"), I took it home in the trunk ofmy car. After pulling into the driveway, I took the chainsaw out and placed it right behind the car, so Mac would see it as he drove in the driveway, and be pleased that it was fixed.
In the meantime, I went in the house, and came to the conclusion that I needed to go to Kinko's to run off some copies. Back out the front door I went, right past the chainsaw, got into my car and threw it into reverse. When I heard the sound of the chainsaw grinding aginst the bottom of the car, I couldn't figure out what it was. Then, it hit me. I tried putting it in first gear, and going forward, only to realize I was stuck; perched on the chainsaw.
I got out, and looked under the car. Yep, there it was.
Mac got home, and we had to jack up the car to get the chainsaw dislodged. The hardware store guys had fun giving me shit the very next morning when I shlepped in with the chainsaw, looking a bit more mangled than it had the night before when I picked it up. Fortunately, they were again able to fix it (miraculously; it's a Stihl) and I brought it home and let Mac take it out of the trunk.
A week later, Hurricane Isabel hit; we had the chain saw working in the nick of time.
Senior Moment Rating: 5
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3 comments:
HE NEVER TOLD ME THAT STORY!
Do we need another blog for hearing-imparied stories?
You have to marvel at the brain's attempts to make sense out of the inadequate data is receives. Sometimes, in a noisy setting, I just sit back and space out and "listen" to the nonsense my brain is making out of what it is hearing. Very dada.
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