I am walking through the kitchen and IT happens. I misstep as something sharp lodges in my instep. Without the benefit or the first cup of coffee or my reading glasses, I reach down and scrutinize the offending inch long piece. Before marrying a model car collector I would have skipped this step and thrown it in the nearest trash can – assuming one of my JRT (Jack Russell Terriers) had sabotaged my path with a recently demolished stick. Now I have been trained to find aforementioned glasses and confirm it is not a valuable fragment such as the front bumper of a Dugu Duesenberg Scoperta.
Other valuable marital life training includes not assuming a Kleenex is conveniently placed on the entry table for my personal use (more likely it is holding a broken side mirror or gearshift waiting to be reattached). As models come and go, miniature automobile repair requires the best lighting and a large horizontal surface (thus our dining room table). I have accepted that short of a dinner party nothing can be relocated until all is reaffixed. If only my real rear bumper was as easy to repair after being rear ended last week by a Tesla!
(CCW) Car Collector Widow
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