Mind you, it is a brand new car and our driveway looks like a ski slope (and not the bunny slope), but we figured, bite the bullet and use the emergency brake and we should be good. The forecast had showers in it, but rain won't hurt the car, right?
Then my husband calls from work, just as I'm dozing off for a good night's sleep before the big sale, and "claims" he heard hail was in the forecast and headed in our direction. Now, normal people would realize that the actual chance of truly damaging hail was probably minimal, but my husband is far from normal. Do you really want me to move all of the stuff around and try to fit the car in? I asked in a lazy, whining sigh.
So I go out and shifted tables around and stacked boxes and figured I could fit the car in a sort of caddywompas way. I was very very careful, after all, this car has been one of the biggest aphrodesiacs for me in years! I inched in, I stopped, got out and looked how much room and repeated that process about 10 times- still not able to close the garage door! I placed blankets on the corners of some of the tables JUST IN CASE! When I got out on that tenth time, the front end was wedged into the one of the metal table corners- that I didn't cover with a blanket!
Oh yah! It was scratched. One week is all we lasted before we popped the cherry on the undinged exterior of the sexy van. And I do not take responsibility for it at all. When he came home, I told him he'd better PRAY for grapefruit-sized hail!
I was so upset, I couldn't get to sleep and watched movies until 2am. I overslept and was woke up by the kids at 7:45 (sale start time: 7am)! AND IT DIDN'T RAIN A DROP!