October 5, 2010
Imagine you’re me for a minute.
Okay, now that you’re me, imagine having this instant message conversation with your wife while you’re at work:
Kim: Maddy just ran into your bike. I’ll go see if it just got pushed against the railing or what.
Sent at 4:17 PM on Tuesday
Me: wait, what?
Sent at 4:19 PM on Tuesday
Kim: Um.. I’m sure she doesn’t want me to tell you. I’m in the den, obviously, and I heard it. She pulled in to the garage where the Subaru usually is and I think she just pushed it against the railing. There is a little squeak when it rolls forward so maybe she pushed the brake lever…? Nothing visible.
This is awkward but I have to go now.
Sent at 4:20 PM on Tuesday
Sound of me punching myself in the face and smashing my head against my desk.
[Epilogue: The bike is fine–Just knocked over. All good. On the other hand, I had a brain aneurysm, so the bike is no good to me anymore.]