Car Flaw

I discovered a tiny dent in the rear door behind the driver's door and am kind of surprised that the discovery didn't upset me much.  The way I look at it is that it's certainly not the last one that will mar my pretty little car over the next many years and I'm realistically accepting that the car is just an object, one that will be a sitting duck in any parking lot I leave it in.  I'll bet that's where most dents and scratches are put on your car.


It kind of unnerved me when I thought the car was perfect.  It was like a blank canvas just waiting for the first little imperfection that some careless person would put on it.  At least now it's been broken in and if a teensy dent is all it suffers while it lives at my house, then I'm very lucky.  


Because of my less than perfect knees, I have a handicapped tag which allows me to park in the larger, safer handicapped parking spots.  Unfortunately, it expires in July and I'll have to ask my doctor to approve me for an extension.  My knees, now not too bad, will really never be normal again so I'm hoping that he will give me a permanent extension.  Not only will that give added life to my knees but also to my car.  I've found that being able to legally park in the handicapped spots is very convenient.


Years ago, when my knees were normal, I was looking for a parking spot in the mall and Tyson, about 6 years old and sitting in the back seat, asked why I didn't park in the handicapped spot.  I told him I wasn't handicapped.  He replied, "Yes you are.  You're old".  I guess a lady in her 50's is old to anyone under 40.


These days, I couldn't care less if people see me as old or handicapped.  I am what I am.  I'm here and I'm dear.