​​​​​​Because humor is funnier when you know it's true.

The scrape

So I walked to my car at lunch to see that someone had scraped my parked car. It was obviously a red car that had hit me. The car next to me had no scratches and was green. In fact there was no red car around. I thought that it must have happened at a meeting the night before even though I remember that the car next to me was not red. I was angry that someone would hit my car and not even leave a note.

Then later that night I parked in my normal spot at home, and spied a red car nearby and noticed that it too has some scratch marks that would match up with my scratches.  Now I felt like Inspector Clouseau and the next morning I confronted the perpetrator, “Did you hit my car?” (no French accent). 

And my wife (yes, my wife) says, “Yes,” like she forgot to take the clothes out of the dryer. 

I said, “Well, you are paying for it!”

She said, “Try collecting.”  Then she said, “Go ahead, blame the wife.” Like it was my fault.

It took me only 20 minutes to realize I am usually wrong.  But like any male, I relapse once and a while into thinking I am right and in charge.  So I need to be reminded. Second, since this has damaged both cars, anyone want to venture a guess as to which one will be repaired first? Third, I think I should get a lot of credit because I did not wake her up when I figured it out and waited ‘til the morning. Though that was merely a survival mechanism, as waking a sleeping woman to argue with is never a good idea.

And that’s the moral of the story, when you’ve been married for over 20 years – it is always the husband’s fault, even when the wife hits the car while he’s asleep in the house.

-Ray Pinney