A not so little problem

So tonight I dropped off our minivan to be serviced before we hit the road for Memorial Day. The service tech mentioned that they do a free carwash and asked if the van had any scratches we needed buffed out. I said no but he quickly pointed to a scrape of red paint on our rear bumper. It took me a moment to recall where that paint came from and then I remembered...

One morning the boys were getting into the van to go to school. They immediately started arguing about whose turn it was to sit in the front. Max (6) is screaming and Andrew (9) is protesting. The volume gets louder and louder. I become more and more irritated as my attempts to settle their dispute are thwarted. In my rash state, I decide to back out of the garage with a sudden jerk to get their attention and then I hear it... crunch!

My husband had slept in because he wasn't feeling well and bang! I had crashed into the front of his car. Crying and distraught I moved his car and got back into the van - you could have heard a pin drop. We proceeded to school in silence and as I pulled up to the curb to drop them off, Max (my 6 year old) leans over and hugs me and says "Hey mom–sorry about that little problem we had back there."