|The short of it|
Sometimes the neighbors across the street back out at the same time I do and I fear that one day we'll collide mid-street.
I was also raising the garage door at the time when a funny-looking foreign object suddenly flew into my field of vision, dropped onto my windshield and bounced off the hood.
It looked like a wire or a fireplace poker.
I couldn't imagine what had happened so I stopped and got out to retrieve whatever it was.
My rear antenna.
I was holding my car's rear antenna in my hand. How could that be?
I looked back and where the antenna is usually seated on the car roof was short one antenna.
(I've often crawled up on the door ledge to unscrew and rescrew it in place when I go through the car wash so fairly quickly I understood what had happened.)
Apparently, I backed out too quickly and caught the edge of the antenna on the garage door as it raised — something I couldn't do again if I tried.
It then snapped off and flew forward.
Now I have to figure out how to fix it. (According to a quick Internet search, it'll take a minimum of $45 for a new one IF they can get the bottom part out of the mount.)
The funny thing was telling Marc about it.
I waited until the presidential election was going in favor of his candidate to bring it up.
"Umm," I said, tapping him lightly on his head. "Today when I was backing out of the garage..."
Marc started and sucked in a breath.
|The missing piece|
He looked alarmed. I had his full attention.
I produced the broken antenna and showed him the damage.
He started to laugh as relief clearly poured over him.
I thought he was going to say, "At least no one was hurt" or "But the car's all right?"
Instead he said, "Great! Good! It wasn't my fault!"
He went on as I stood there confused.
"I thought you were going to tell me I had done something bad!"
OK. I guess in this case, my husband's paranoia and fear of me works in my favor, huh?