earlier this week, i found a tee in my car, and since i am not a golfer, i figured there was only one way it could have gotten there: somehow i had unknowingly tracked it from my husband's car to mine. i had borrowed his car a few weeks ago when my own car was being inspected, and while there are several benefits to driving his zippy little hatchback, there are also quite a few things that i would rather not be reminded of.
for one, the not-so-subtle hints that he plays golf. when i first got into his car, i noticed that he had an abundance of tiny pencils everywhere. and scorecards. and oh, when i backed out of the driveway, no, that's not the sound of a huge bowling ball rolling around in the trunk... it's golf balls! loose golf balls flying all over the back! and you could hear them having a ball (see what i did there?) at every turn or stop. hilarious.
and then there's the cleanliness, or lack thereof. the man literally lives in his car. now, to his credit, he has a decent commute, so i guess of all people i would understand. and also, his parents told me when we first started dating that they knew something was up because he only cleaned out his car before dates. i guess i would suspect something if the car was miraculously tidy. so we can let the messiness slide there.
there's also the fact that i can only play one CD at a time. as someone who boycotts the radio for months at a time, i fully appreciate the 6-disc CD player in my car. and that i can switch tracks or turn the volume up/down right from my trusty steering wheel. spoiled, i know.
i could go on and on, but the main thing is there's an amazing amount of random stuff we get used to for random things. we probably don't even realize how accustomed we are to something until we find ourselves wanting.
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