Sorry for the pause in posting. I'm in Salt Lake City tonight because my flight into Dallas (and thus to Chicago) was cancelled. I'm currently enjoying the lush comforts of a delivered Domino's Pizza, and a Super 8 hotel. Not to worry, I should be home tomorrow afternoon, in plenty of time to stand up at my friend's wedding on Sunday.
How did I get to Salt Lake City in the first place? We got our car back from the body shop on Tuesday before noon. It looked perfect. Brand new. Pretty paint, new rear bumper, clean doors. Amazing. At 7pm we drove out of town, North on Rt 12. Not 10 minutes later Stephan asked me, "what was that? Something just crossed in the road behind us!" As he was looking in the rear view mirror, a deer ran across the road in front of us and he breaked just in time for the front passenger bumper to slam into the small deer and send it flying. We pulled over, safe but shaken. I was trying very hard not to laugh. Stephan was swearing up a storm. We got out of the car and saw that, on the same side of the car that had just been fixed, the front bumper had broken off the frame. Some of the quotes from that night:
Him: THIS is why we can't have nice things!
Me: Shouldn't we see if the deer is ok?
Him: What am I going to do? Start an IV?
Me: You could.
Me: STOP! Another deer!
Him: That' a bush.
Me: Oh.
Me: ON THE LEFT!
Him: That's a tree.
Me: Oh.
Me: Ooh, look at the moon!
Him: Where?
Me: On the left. Like, "There's a bad moon on the left."
Him: What?
Me: That song... "There's a bad moon on the right."
Him: There's a "bad moon on the RISE."
Me: Oh.
Him: Did you spend a part of your life deaf?
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