Kyra and I exited the Credit Union and walked to the car. I tried my key in the door and it wouldn't open. I jiggled it, I tried to lock then unlock it, because sometimes that helps, and I pulled it in and out repeatedly. Kyra was loosing patience and told me to jut toss her the keys. Yes, sometimes that helps. Sometimes the key only works on the passenger side door. She tried and tried and it still didn't work. I bammed on the window and yelled at the stupid car because that helps. She tossed the keys back and I tried again, to no avail. This is why I don't drive this dumb Nissan.
Then Kyra said, after peering in the window, "MOM! This isn't even our car!"
What are the chances of there being 2 faded maroon Nissan Sentras with chipping paint and missing hubcaps in the same parking lot with less than a dozen parking spaces?
3 comments:
That's awesome. The other day, I spent a good fifteen minutes in the Fry's parking lot looking for my car. On the 16th minute, I remembered that I had driven Clint's truck.
You should have played the lottery.
I love that Kyra is the one that figured it out! Ha ha!
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