Sometimes I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres. No particular reason. Just because I can.
Near the end of 2014, I saw this thing floating around the Internet about how you should write down one happy thought for each day of the year and then read through all of your happy thoughts on New Year’s Eve. Honestly, who’s sober enough on New Year’s Eve to do that?
Needless to say, I started off the year, filling out one happy thought for each day. I made it until June and then things started getting a little sketchy. I regret to inform you, I stopped doing it altogether and had to console myself on New Year’s Eve with an entire bottle of bubbly.
However, it just so happens I remember one of my happy thoughts from 2015.
My husband bought a brand new, shiny truck right before we moved from Georgia. Shortly after we relocated – when his truck was still new and shiny, I used his truck to run some errands. Here’s the conversation we had when I returned home.
“Honey,” I began, chewing my lip. “I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked as he was putting groceries away.
“It’s about your truck.”
“What about it?”
I paused, unsure of how to tell him this. After all, this was his shiny, new truck.
My hesitation alarmed him. “What’s wrong with my truck?”
I took a deep breath. “Okay, the thing is, it was an accident. And I wouldn’t even say anything about it, except that there’s no way you’re not going to notice when you go outside.”
“What happened to my truck?” he asked again, edging his way toward the window that has the view of his truck.
“I didn’t mean to do it. I’ve just always had bad luck with stuff like this.”
His eyes were wide with alarm. He moved closer to the window, reaching to lift the blinds. “Please stop torturing me.”
“Alright.” I took another deep breath. “Well, if you look outside you’ll see that….I…..did a horrible job parking your truck.”
True story, Ellen. I did do a horrible job parking his truck. It was crooked and over the line.