Today I drove our Yaris, of stick shift persuasion, into the garage and proceeded to carry our groceries into the house. I then gathered everyone that needed to go with me on the next errand and stepped back out into the garage, which was surprisingly...empty.
"Where's the car?" I asked myself and anyone listening. It's been stolen, I thought. The neighborhood construction workers were my prime suspects.
"It's in the ditch." Mark replied as he came up behind me. This was more of an assumption than an observation, since he couldn't actually see the car from where he was standing, and that's when I realized that I had probably not set the emergency brake, as I was so prone not to do.
Sure enough, it was in the ditch on the other side of the driveway. Thank goodness for a side-load garage! Otherwise...it would have been in the street or who knows where.
Relieved, we were able to drive it right out of the ditch. The neighborhood construction workers went from being my prime suspects to my prime audience. Sheepishly, we all got in and resumed our original task of going to the Urgent Care facility so that an unnamed "someone" could have an unnamed "something" delicately removed from their physical person-ness. Not setting the parking brake was in all actuallity, stupid thing number 2 that these humble, bumbling Jarmans had managed to accomplish today . Not our best work.