From our front porch

I took this picture from our front porch this morning. Two things might surprise you:

1. It's green in Kansas.

2. Part of the road is covered in water.

Water is bubbling from the ground at a pretty good rate (it is hard to see in the picture, but it is there). On closer examination during our morning walk I have concluded that this might be a sewage line that has broken due to the gross color of the water and the smell.

Sewage + forecasted 97 degree day = smelly mess

Funny thing is, everybody seems to just be looking at the mess but not doing anything. Not that I can blame them, I haven't the slightest clue how you would begin to stop something like this. Kind of like the BP gas leak last year. Kind of. Okay, maybe nothing like the gas leak.

Anyway, it goes quite a bit further down the cross-street. Which happens to be where Hubs' office is. Hopefully they figure it out soon.

Not what you want to hear when you're out walking in the dark

Yesterday Ransom and I took a walk at about 5:30. It was still dark out, but you could see the sun beginning to rise. We got no more than a block when we were stopped by a man delivering newspapers.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that a buddy of mine told me there is a guy walking the streets with a black ski mask. He has a stun gun and he is raping people."

Thoughts immediately going through my head: this man has a stocking hat on, and being a fan of shows like Criminal Minds, I am very aware that he could pull the mask down and be the very man he is describing. And now, since I've seen his face, he'll have to kill me when its all over. This man's raping people, or just women? Why does he keep looking down at Ransom? Seriously. I bet its him. Oh good, there is another man walking down the street walking his dog. He can't do anything to me now.

"I don't mean to scare you or anything..."

I jump back to the conversation, "Oh no worries. Thanks for the heads-up!"

And I quickly continue on my walk. Walking slightly faster than normal and well aware of any noises.

When I return home to the front door open, I start freaking a little. But, the coast was clear. And I had my nightmare about the situation last night so hopefully it is out of my system. I think I might take my walks in the daylight for a few weeks though.

I've always wondered what Ransom would do if my safety was threatened. And the day before this strange conversation, we came home after the house was being shown and Ransom went on high alert. He smelled/knew something wasn't right. Someone had been in our house that he was not familiar with. He growled and barked and literally searched every room for the stranger.

Makes me think I'm a little safer with Ransom beside me.

The man who lives in my basement

There is a man living in our basement. He hears me wake up each morning to walk the dog. While I'm gone, he sneaks out and leaves. Then he comes back sometime the next evening.

Of course, this isn't true. But every morning I think that someone is down there. We don't use the living space and it is this dark hallway that just beckons paranoia. I can't don't even venture down there without Ransom going first.

It doesn't help that every morning I hear random noises. Whether creaks or pops or water running. This morning it was a bang on the thing that carries heat to us through the vent - what is that called? It also doesn't help that I found Ransom down there growling one time. And he never growls.

So, I've just come to accept that there is someone down there who doesn't bother us as long as we don't bother him.

I just hope that I don't feel this way about our basement in St. Louis, because we will be using the living space there. I suppose regularly using and getting cozy the basement will help with the fear, but I'm still thankful that my shadow will be happy to accompany me wherever I go.

1 Million Trips to the Store

On Monday, I made a grocery list. I planned my meals. I knew exactly what was needed. Although all the items were crossed off when I returned home, I have been to the grocery store more than ever this week.

Tuesday afternoon. I rush home from work to start the chicken marinating for Chicken Makhani. No garlic. I decide to just go without the garlic and sprinkle some not nearly as good garlic powder in. But wait, I also have no limes. So, I grab my keys and shove the dog in the car to get these [2] items.

Home again. Make the marinade. Hours later, Hubs comes home. I remember I had promised him I would pick up some medicine for his cold. Back to the car, Ransom and I head to the store.

Home again. Two minutes later I start supper and realize I don't have tomato sauce or diced tomatoes. Ransom and I get back. into. the. car. and go to the store for the third time that night.

Thursday afternoon. I need to make 2 dozen cranberry orange scones but notice the orange juice is gone. I go to the grocery store afterwork. Then, rush home to start the [pioneer woman's] pot roast. And realize I have no beef stock, which I KNOW I bought. Ransom is happy to tag along again to the store. On the way I wonder if the beef stock is in Hubs's truck, since I used his truck on Monday but don't have keys so just head straight to the store.

Home again. No powdered sugar for the glaze on the scones. Determined NOT to visit the store again, I find a friend that is willing to lend me 1/2 a cup and bring it to Bible study that night. Study gets cancelled, but I am still not willing to take myself back to the store. So Hubs runs the errand for me.

And, I'm pretty sure I have to go to the store again today.

[Sigh.]

Great Escape

It is common for my friend and I to have coffee together. And at times, we like to bring our dogs together for a play date. So, it was natural to get together right after the giant snowfall and watch our crazies romp and play together in the cold while we sat inside chatting.

Just as I put the hot cocoa on the table, I saw it. And I yelled inside at him, even though he couldn't hear. For the first time in 2 months, Ransom had tried to jump the fence. I opened the back door and yelled for him to get inside.

He tried again.

I said, "Ransom, come on. Let's go inside!" because even though he needed scolded, I was using the "come in and get a treat" tactic. He turns around to acknowledge that he knew exactly what he was supposed to do, then took a [last] leap at the fence.

He made it.

In shock, I take off out the garage in my slippers, without a coat. [The temperature is in the teens.] I run around the corner to find him but there is nothing. I hear my 7-month pregnant friend behind me. We both yell for Ransom and don't see him anywhere. Everything is white; surely we will see him!

We take off towards the house again and I know that I have to go to the spot where he jumped. So, I trudge through the snow - which is up to my knees - around the front of the house to the back of the fence [in my slippers].

Not even noticing the cold yet, I follow his tracks until they lead me to a shoveled driveway and then I lose him. By this time, knowing my crazy dog's running capabilities and speed, he could be a long ways off. My sacrificing 7-month pregnant friend also trudges through the deep snow and we decide that I will take my car around the neighborhood while she keeps searching around the house.

I get in the car and drive around the block, when I hear my friend yell from the back yard that she found him. So, I turn around as fast as possible [on unplowed streets in my little dodge neon]. By the time I get around to the other side. Ransom is playing chase with my pregnant friend.

In the end, she caught him. We were snow covered and cold. He had been high-centered on a neighbor's 6-foot wooden fence. And, he whined to go back outside for the remainder of our time together.

This leaves me wondering what we will find that can actually contain him inside a yard.

The case of the [2] missing coffee grinders

Shockingly enough, I have not made coffee in the new house. Thanks to Christmas Blend Via packs and Starbucks gift cards and lots of traveling, I just haven't done it.

So, it was quite embarrassing when we had guests over and I frantically had to search through my cabinets to find a coffee grinder. It was even more embarrassing that I have not found it. And then the final embarrassment came when our guest drove to the grocery store to get ground coffee.

It's a mystery to me how I could lose track of, not 1, but 2 coffee grinders - one still in its box. I am resigned that it probably won't show up for 5 months when I start packing all over again.

Not sure I should tell you this story...

Last night, I did one of the grossest things. I'm not sure I should share it. It is sure to alter your opinion of me. Before I share it, just look at this adorable face and think of super soft floppy ears:



At about 8:30pm, Ransom and I headed out for a run. It was hot. It was humid. And I had to spray myself down with jungle-strength bug spray to prevent getting eaten alive by the swarms of mosquitoes. I carried along a bag, knowing that Ransom would poop shortly into the run (read: treadmill story).

Sure enough, he did his duty and after securing it in the plastic bag, I left it on the side of the road to pick it up on my way back home. That is so much easier than carrying smelly feces in a bag that flops back and forth as you run.

When we got to our turn around spot, I notice that a dog is barking at us through a window of its house. As I try to turn around I see Ransom squatting again. I say, "nooooo" but it is too late. I look back at the house with the barking dog and see a person standing in the window, watching and waiting. I obviously have no bag. He is obviously waiting for me to leave the poop in his yard so he can run after me or shout at me. I panic; I can't think of an alternate solution. So, I bend over and pick up the poop with my bare hands.

Luckily for me, it was completely solid; and, because it was the second poop, it was smaller in quantity. When I reached an area of weeds, I threw it awayand Ransom and I resumed our run. It was difficult, though, since I quaranteened my hand from the rest of my body and, more awkwardly, Ransom's leash.

If I wouldn't have panicked, I could have simply explained to the man that I would come back and pick it up. Or I could have just taken my chances and made a run for it. But, instead I picked up the poop with my bare hands.

If that dog wasn't so stinkin' cute...

Treadmill Trouble

Caesar Milan (aka The Dog Whisperer) says that a treadmill is a good way to exercise an energetic and active dog. I've always wanted to try it. I've not only read about it in his books, but I've watched him put it into action on TV.

This weekend, I found Hubs attempting to do just this. (Man, I wish I would have thought to take pictures.) I happened upon him standing on the treadmill with his feet spread apart so that he was on the panels that don't move. He held Ransom by the collar, between his legs. Ransom was a trooper. It started off slow and Hubs would make it faster every little while. Soon Ransom was up to a 8:30 mile-pace and still just trotting along.

Our goal: 1 mile before we left for dinner.

At one-half mile, something went wrong. It happened too quickly at the time to understand fully, but after a couple attempts of trying to veer off the treadmill, Ransom had stopped running completely. Hubs stopped the treadmill, and then realization hit us.

(Side note: Ransom's poop schedule is very consistent. He poops on our morning walks. He poops immediately when he gets to the dog part in the northeast corner. He circles 2.5 times before squatting. He cannot run for very long if he hasn't pooped.)

After the treadmill stopped, we discovered that there was a reason Ransom was trying to get off the treadmill. He had to poop. And since his owners were forcing him to continue running, he had no option but to squat right there. Unfortunately, when he squatted he also starting riding backwards on the belt, so then he had to squat/run for the next 5 seconds until the treadmill stopped. By that time, the damage was done. The poop had ridden the treadmill and flown off the back onto the floor. Soon, the smell was enough to send us all out of the room.

Verdict: The treadmill works. Ransom seemed to enjoy it.
Lessons Learned: Take Ransom outside BEFORE the workout.

Tornadic Activity

Tis the season for tornadoes in the land of Kansas. And we have heard our first round of tornado sirens. When I moved to Kansas as a pre-teen, they sirens freaked. me. out. I realized yesterday that after 15 years of living in the mid-west, and surviving through 1 actually tornado, I have become a tad bit desensitized.

20 minutes before the sirens were sounded: I was walking the dog. It was humid and clouds were moving in fast.

5 minutes before the sirens were sounded: I took the dog with me to Starbucks and the bank.

As the sirens were sounded: I was in the drive-thru at Starbucks, picking up some 1/2-price fraps for our road trip. Yep, we were going to travel even though storm after storm was expected for the state.

Next stop - the bank. I went through the bank drive-thru and the employees were still there working. As they completed my transaction, I looked at the traffic. Everything seemed normal. Nobody was rushing home. Nobody was seeking shelter. I search the radio and music was playing as usual. I could not find a station that was addressing the sirens. No, the only difference from any other day was that loud sirens were sounding continually.

As I traveled back home, I turned on the TV to find that we were not in any immediate danger. The area where a tornado was likely was 15 miles past us.

(Never, ever would I advise a person to just ignore a tornado siren, however, you must realize that based on what I had seen on the TV and in the sky, I knew that I was safe at this point in time.)

10 minutes after the sirens stopped: Jake and I left on the road trip.

On My Wedding Day - Part 2

Some of you have already heard of the unfortunate tales behind the scenes of our wedding just under 4 years ago. But alas, there are a few more. And since it is wedding week in our family, it seems like a god time to share.

The unfortunate marriage license ordeal
I picked up our marriage license in plenty of time - Tuesday before the wedding. That was an important detail that I wanted to get out of the way.

So, I was shocked on Friday when Hubs (still in Nebraska) called to inform me that the Johnson County Courthouse called to inform him that our marriage license was invalid. Furthermore, I had until noon to pick up a valid one. It was 9am. It is the day before the wedding, so obviously it is pretty planned out. Yet, Beth and I leave my mom to get her nails done alone as we drive completely out of our way to pick up our true and valid license. Sigh.

The unfortunate outdoor pictures

I'm an outdoors person, all the way. However, I hate it when it reaches 90 degrees and above. Unfortunately, the entire week of our wedding (duh, it was in July) was in the hundreds. (Yet another reason I question why we live in Kansas). Smoldering is the only word that I can use to describe that week. 

But, I still believed outdoor pictures would be worth the heat.

Thankfully, the day of our wedding a cold front came through. It was in the mid-90s. We spent hours taking pictures - most of them outdoors. Hubs and I were the only people who actually had to be out there the entire time. I get grumpy when I'm hot, but I seemed to endure the heat pretty well that day.

When we came home from our honeymoon, we noticed Richard's mother's legs were covered in red spots. We asked what had happened, and she was kind of quiet. Come to find out, she had gotten chigger bites up and down both of her legs. How? From taking pictures outside.

Talk about feeling horrible. We felt worse. They were so bad that she could not sleep and so bad that a week later they still were there. How the rest of us did not end up with them, I have no idea. I'm still very sorry about that Joan!

The unfortunate flower petals

My mom ordered beautiful red flower petals that got placed all over the reception area, the cake, and were thrown at us as we walked out to the limo. The church was brand new. It has only been completed a week or so ahead of our wedding. 

After we left, we found that red flower petals bleed onto the floor. My family spent hours cleaning them up off of the brand new tile. 

The limo ride

We got into our limo to see all the groomsmen in there. We laughed and they got out. Five seconds later I was bawling. It could have been the fact that I got about 4 hours of sleep. It could have been that I needed a hot shower. It could have been that I hadn't eaten, that I got a ticket, that I ran into a glass door, or that I did not get to pack my suitcase. It was probably just because every single emotion was on overload in my body and the only way to get it out was to cry. Either way, I'm sure Hubs was wondering what he had just gotten in to. 

At any rate, we got married despite the obstacles. Oh, how glad I am that it is not my wedding on Saturday!

That's one way to get rid of the dead tree

Yesterday Hubs and I were outside noticing that we have 2 dead trees in our yard. They aren't big and basically look like giant sticks pointing out of the ground. 

Later that evening, Ransom's leash wrapped around the tree and broke it off - obviously, it was very dead. Ransom wasn't about to let a little trunk of a tree stay poking out of the ground where we could trip and fall. No siree, he went straight to work to remove the hazard from our yard.

First he used his strong jaw and teeth. He began gnawing at the trunk frantically. I'm sure he was hoping to gnaw it down so it no longer poked out.

When that didn't work, he put his paws to work.

Man is he good at digging. In less than a minute he had created a large hole, making it easy to get the tree trunk and root out of the ground. (Notice the tree/stick in the grass?)

It has occurred to me that someday, when we own a yard, his digging won't be cute anymore. In fact, it will probably make me scream and shout at him. We are creating a monster...

Dog-motherhood

Usually my pups is happy. He has more energy that we know what to do with. He loves to play, chew his bones, be outside, and he gets super excited when we come home.

Since Sunday, however, my pups has been sad. I came home from church to find not 1, but 2, piles of vomit. Ransom got out of his crate only to vomit 2 more times. When we came home from evening church, he had vomited, yup, 2 more times.

Something was wrong.

Since then, Pups has not eaten his food. Not one tiny morsel. Not even when I put peanut butter all over it.

Something was definitely wrong.

So, I called the vet this morning. They asked me to bring him in and leave him so that they could fit him in between other appointments (I don't think you can do that with actual children).

Now I totally told myself I would never be one of those parents that can't stand to leave their children, but after this episode,  I am second-guessing myself.

When Pups realized what was happening - that I was leaving - he flipped. He pulled and pulled trying to get away from them and come with me. He furiously moved his paws, scraping against the slick linoleum to follow me. I know if he could have spoken, he would have been yelling, "I'll eat! I'll eat! Just take me home and I promise I'll eat!"

But I left, with my heart wrenching. Only to come back 7 hours later and find out there is nothing. wrong. with. him. WHAT? I mean, I guess that is good news, but seriously? My Labrador retriever doesn't eat for 2 days and there is nothing wrong? This is the dog that ate batteries. An entire library book. And a wii condom. This is the dog who likes banana peels. And, gag me, poop at the dog park.

But we were sent home with a prescription diet and stomach pills.

We walk in the door. I head straight to the bathroom. When I emerge, this is what I see:

Somebody likes my spearmint plant. He lifted it by its leaves out of its pot and began eating it.

PS - He still won't eat his food.

Lopsided

Usually, my pups has two perky ears. Perky ears are a sign of playfulness, alert, excitement, and they are just so cute. Lately, only one ear perks.

Ransom has a ear infection and so he either holds his ear down, or it just lays differently because it hurts.

I know it is kind of hard to see in the pictures, but in real-life it is quite funny looking. But it is even more funny to watch him after he gets his medicine.

He hates his medicine. We pour a solution down his ear canal while he is pinned by both Hubs and I against the wall. He struggles to get free from our grasp (and sometimes is successful). Then, Hubs pulls his ear straight up and massages the ear canal so that it makes this sloshy sound. We do this three times and then he is free to shake his head for about 15 minutes.

During that 15 minutes, though, he is lopsided. Not only are his ears lopsided, but his entire head. He can't seem to hold his head straight and therefore cannot even walk straight. He runs into things and walks crooked until his equilibrium returns. And although we both feel sorry for him, we also both laugh.

After the 15 minutes, we pin him against the wall again and pour a cream down his ears. This one makes him whine, but doesn't mess up his balance.

A treat usually makes up for the pain and embarrassment. 

Will she even stop taking these pictures???

It Happened Again

Hubs got called in for an emergency appointment today. So, I tagged along and read my kindle. A woman showed up (the patient) as well as her three sons - it was a snow day.

Near the end of the appointment, I hear the lady in the chair say something along these lines:

I can't wait to tell my boys that it is your wife with you. When my 8th grade son saw her, he told me to find out if she was your daughter, what school she attends, and to get her phone number. They were so excited when they saw her.


I could tell Hubs was speechless. He then responded, Well, you can tell them she is already taken.


And she did. As any mother of high-school boys would, she embarrassed the poor boys by telling them right in front of Hubs. I can just see their mortified looks as they found out not only that I was a wife, but that I was 26, instead of 14!

I always think this will stop happening to me, but it doesn't. As long as people think I am 38 when I am 50, I'll take it!

Feeling naked at the doctor

The doctor I dislike the least is the eye doctor. I would rather go to the eye doctor than any other doctor (okay, except for Hubs). This seems odd considering they get closest to my face and thus can smell my breath and see the imperfections in my skin that I attempt to hide. This also seems odd since they blow puffs of air in my eyes, which I dislike. But the main reason it seems odd, is the extreme vulnerability I feel for 90% of the appointment.

As a contact lens wearer, they make me take our my lenses shortly after arriving. Which means for most of the appointment, I can see no faces, I can read nothing, and I can distinguish only large, familiar objects.

I feel naked without my contacts. Therefore, I feel extremely vulnerable.

I find it is hard to have conversations when I can't see faces. Where should I look? Am I looking at their nose? Their lips? Their chin? I have no clue.

Today, I made it safely into the exam room without feeling too awkward, and then someone walked in to talk to me.

Please ears, work hard for me to distinguish who this is. The man stands about 15 feet away from me and begins friendly conversation. To my relief, he had seen me at Starbucks that morning and immediately I knew it was the other doctor (the one I was not seeing) talking to me. I also remembered that I went to school with his son, which had to be why he recognized me.

(By the way, I seem to feel like I have changed drastically in my appearance since high school, but people seem to recognize me easily. Maybe I just wish I have changed drastically...)

I notice the blur of magazines in the exam room. Humpf. Like I can actually read them. Really, there was nothing to do for about 10 minutes while I sat in a dark room in partial blindness.

When the doctor did walk in, he could have been a murderer coming to slit my throat. There I was sitting as vulnerable as could be. How would I defend myself? I wouldn't be able to grab anything; I can't see a thing. With the use of my natural eyes, I would never be able to tell a difference.

But, it wasn't a murder; it was my favorite eye doctor in the whole world. Who, by the way, looks older than the last time I saw him 5 years ago (I was able to see him clearly when he put the machine in front of my eyes). After a short exam, he gave me my lenses back, which I frantically put back into my eyes, and I was once again granted the gift of sight.

Weddings

We are going to a wedding this weekend. I haven't been to a wedding in a while, but don't they always make you think about your own wedding?


I think about the things that went wrong not as planned. (That reminds me that I still have more stories to tell.) The things I would have done differently and the things I really liked. Mainly, I think about how much I never want to plan another one again.


This past week, I decided to call my photographer and see if I could buy a disc of my pictures. I received all the proofs in printed form, plus I got a beautiful book of our wedding; but I thought it might be nice to have the pictures on our computer as well. Photographers should keep photos for 3.5 years, right? I wouldn't know. They went out of business.


So, at least my Pop-pop took a few photos of that day that I can still share:

The decorating of the church was quite an ordeal. I have no talent when it comes to coming up with a vision and making it happen. I think after a morning of endless questions such as, "We could do this or this..." and "What do you think?" my family realized that I was lost. Thankfully, my aunt came a few days early and make everything look wonderful.



I really dislike cake. But, I was starved at this point and gulped the entire piece down - frosting and all.



I don't remember there being a toast, but we did the whole cross your arms and drink thing. I forgot to buy some sparkling stuff, so someone filled it with punch and it worked.



This picture always cracks me up. Why nobody took the water bottle away from me, I will never know. I look so happy here, but the minute I got into the limo I bawled the entire way to the hotel. Why? Read this post.

The thought that comes into my head most when I look at these pictures is, "I wish I was still that tan!"

Starbucks girl

The Starbucks people recognize me when I come in. No, I do not go there every day. No, they do not know my order by heart - I mix it up to confuse them. Sometimes I get a non-fat caramel macchiato. Sometimes a non-fat peppermint latte. Sometimes a skinny hazelnut latte. Sometimes a hot tea. Always non-fat. Always no whip. Never anything chocolate - does anyone else dislike their chocolate?

Anyways, that was totally not the point of this post. There is this girl that is usually making the drinks in the morning who is completely familiar to me. I am guessing that I actually went to high school with her, but I have no clue what her name is or if she just has a familiar face.

A normal person probably would have either looked in their old year book or simply asked the girl what her name was. But a) I am not normal and b) my yearbooks are buried underneath other old, meaningless stuff.

Nope. Instead, I just thank her for my drink and wonder each time why she looks so familiar.

Squirrel Funeral

Although it is not often that the murderer goes to the victim's funeral, I do need to say a few words.

I did not know you very long, but I am sure that you were a daring squirrel. You saw me coming, yet you darted out into the street anyway. You raced across and as I saw you run, I knew there would be nothing I could do. I tapped the brakes, but it was too late. I cringed as I heard the thud....nevermind.

Please forgive me, squirrel loved ones. It was a complete accident. However, I do think that Mr. Squirrel is much happier that he doesn't have to live in these cold temperatures anymore.

Freeze that smile - literally

So, what does your family do when it is 17 degrees outside and the ground is snow covered?

Well, we drive to a park. We get out of our warm vehicle and we trample through the snow. As we walk by a pond, we pass a sign that reads, "Ice is not safe. Staff off." As we near our destination, we hear a voice, "I shouldn't of done that." We see that one of the boys wandered away from the group. He pulls his foot up and we see his sock, dripping wet. He bends down and pulls his shoe from the pond. It's dripping with mud.

We are speechless. We huddle together for warmth.

Wow. That seems like an odd thing to do when it is so cold outside.

Oh just you wait. Then we take our gloves, hats, and yes, our coats off and pile them in the snow. Why? Because we are taking family pictures today. We are taking family pictures outside. In January. Frozen foot and all.

Hubs and I were up first:

After our pictures, we really started to get cold. Fingers started to ache, faces started to freeze. Smiling became an issue. But, we still ended up with a good family picture:

What you don't see is that my future SIL is standing in a snowdrift up to her knees - welcome to the family! Hubs, frozen-foot-boy, and I then ran to the still-warm car to thaw while the to-be-wed couple posed:

In our frozen state, we totally forgot to get pictures of just mom and dad and pictures of just the kids. Really, all we could think about was getting back to the warm vehicle.

I know it sounds a little crazy to do family pictures outside in January; it felt a little crazy, too! But not only did we end up with some great photos, we also have great memories.

Don't Hit My Truck!

Don't lie. How many of you thought, after seeing that title, that I hit Hubs's truck?

Well, I didn't, yet.

If you didn't already know, I work part-time for our church; mainly, as my uncle's administrative assistant. This uncle and I go waaay back - to the day of my birth in Birmingham, Alabama. So, I guess you could say we have a special relationship.

Ten years ago this Saturday, I turned 16. And, as most excited 16 year-olds I was just looking for an excuse to drive somewhere. So, as we sat around talking someone mentioned a good movie, and 2 seconds later I was grabbing my coat and keys to rent it.

As I ran out the door, my uncle warned, "Hey, don't hit my truck." I never heard this warning, and maybe if I had, I would not have walked in the door 30 seconds later to say, "I backed into your truck," on my 16th birthday.

So lately, my uncle/boss finds it extremely humorous to remind me "not to hit his truck" each time I leave the building.

So far, I've heard the warning.