|Not the best photo. From my Blackberry.|
Then this certain family member, when it was time to go, backed his beautiful Mustang out of the driveway and into David's car. Sober, in broad daylight.
To this certain family member: I'm sorry for posting this, but I had to. Once I'm in a habit of writing about my life, I can't really stop. I tried not to for as long as I could, and it turns out that "as long as I could" is about two days.
The Mustang was a little scratched, but it turned out that most of the marks were scuffs. I sat for about a half hour next to the bumper of the Mustang, performing a "Mom-spit-face-wash" on the scuffs, and they were coming right out. David's car had a dent, but it was big enough where they knew they'd be able to get it out, if that makes sense.
THING IS, this certain family member knows a lot about taking care of cars. He put stuff (rubbing compound? I have no idea) on his car so you can't even tell that it got a couple of small scratches. Then, he came over yesterday with this suction cup thingie (?) and the rubbing compound, and they took the dent and scratches out of David's car. David's car looks like nothing ever happened to it, and I haven't seen the Mustang yet, but I have heard that my certain family member is really happy with how it looks, and that's all that matters to me.