Uh...Whoops!

Here's Ray (pictured holding two very cute babies on his lap!)

Sometimes he has to drive huge trucks like these. He does just fine.

Here's me.

Sometimes I have to drive a huge Suburban like this. Sometimes I do just fine.

Once there was a trash can tall, tall, tall.

Then I got behind the wheel of the Suburban, now that tall trash can is oh so small!

The scariest part is I didn't even feel or hear it when I hit it, rolled over it, and dragged the trash can for almost 50 yards. I was just beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with the Suburban when I saw a man a few houses down waving his arms wildly. "OK", I thought, "I must have a flat and he's noticed it."

When I got out and walked around the back of the car, I noticed this random gray trash can, crushed and still wobbling, in the street. "That's weird", I thought. "I wonder what that's doing there?" It still did not dawn on me, so I continued to inspect the tires. When the nice man finally got to my car, I glanced back down the street and noted trash (mainly Amelia's and Peter's diapers) strewn along the street all the way back to my house. I looked back at the now still trash can, and it all became clear.

Roger (the nice man) attempted to re-shape my trash can, to no avail, and then said he would pick the trash up. I told him that I would do it but he insisted, being the gentleman that he was. So I climbed back into the Suburban, feeling bewildered yet grateful, and headed on my way.

That is how my Monday started. Apparently it was a theme throughout the day, because this is what I knocked over later that morning. (With my foot this time, not the car.)