My father-in-law drove too far into his garage yesterday and hit the back wall. Luckily, the airbag didn’t trigger and he didn’t get hurt; but both vehicle and wall will need body work. He can’t understand how the device he installed to prevent such a disaster failed so miserably. I can, however; which is why I pray he never solves the mystery.
Vito has feared such an accident for a while. As he’s come to realize, neither his reflexes nor his eyesight are what they used to be. He decided to install a safety mechanism after a near miss with his garage wall two weeks ago. But rather than utilize a manufactured device, he decided to jury rig one of his own. He lodged a long wooden dowel into a brick and placed the brick on the garage floor in the spot where he wanted his driver’s side mirror to halt. That position left a two-foot cushion in front of the wall.
Vito’s accident happened on his return from the supermarket yesterday. Apparently, my mother-in-law had found herself short of certain ingredients for Sunday dinner and sent him to purchase them. His forty-five minute trip ended when he pulled his sedan into the garage and toward his trusty marker. Except, before his side-view mirror reached the rod’s position, the car plowed head on into the wall!
What’d happened seemed obvious: the brick holding the dowel rod had moved more than two feet toward the back of the garage. The question was “how?” Inasmuch as the two most obvious suspects – Vito’s grandchildren – possessed solid alibis, the brick appeared to have migrated of its own volition. My father-in-law has been scratching his head in puzzlement ever since.
I hope the old man stays in the dark, since I’m pretty sure I can answer the “how” of his accident. Minutes after he departed on his shopping expedition, Sophia, Prometheus and I arrived for Sunday dinner. My phone rang and I went outside to take the call, accompanied by the dog.
After a twenty minute discussion with my brother, I hung up and went in search of my puppy. I’d last seen him fifteen minutes earlier, when he’d disappeared around the corner of the house. I finally located him in the garage, where I discovered him ferociously gnawing and tugging on Vito’s dowel rod. In my defense, I didn’t actually see the brick move. And even after the fact, a two and a half foot shift seems beyond the capability of a six pound dog. Nonetheless, the result speaks for itself.
This morning I magnanimously paid for the installation of a laser guided parking system in Vito’s garage. I supervised the install myself, in part to ensure no mistakes were made but mostly so I could personally remove the ineffective wooden dowel … engraved with telltale canine bite marks at just the height of a small dog’s head.