After work I met the Superwife at the mechanic's to leave the van. Superwife drove from there on because I assume she can see better than cross-eyed me. She has always driven like a racecar driver- she drives to win. She's either hard on the gas or hard on the brakes. Everyone in front of her will be passed, and I will keep a white-knuckled grip on the arm rests.

She likes to drive the Intrepid. With the 3.5L, 16-valve engine she has said it reminds her of the Grand Prix with the 400 cubic-inch engine. Hit the gas and it accelerates right smartly. She certainly likes it.

Then we hit Kohl's because they have a two-for-one sale on sweaters. A lot of my sweaters are starting to get ratty. She decided I needed some. They had really nice sweaters at Kohl's- liked one a lot. Superwife thought it was too busy, that and maybe that even at half-off it was $27. Oh well.

So we went to K-Mart, they had some perfectly acceptable sweaters on sale for $17. So I got a couple of them. The kids got their Icees. Is everybody happy? Yes. Next up is Petco for Guinea pig supplies.

Then we hit Petco for pig supplies. As she pulled into the Petco parking spot she was way too fast for me. I yelled, "Hey!" She hit the brakes, looked at me, and said, "What's your problem? There's lots of room." I was carrying a measuring tape, so I measured the distance between bumper and lightpost- 9 inches. No doubt in my mind that if she'd waited a fraction of a second longer to brake my front bumper would have been creased into the radiator.

Then we hit Best Buy. We got the Monkees second season on DVD. Whoo hoo! Nothing else too exciting happened, and that was good.

Then we picked up the van. Changing the oil pressure sender worked- cheap fix, works for me. Since she was already driving the car Superwife continued and I got in the van. Following her on the way home I couldn't help noticing how my petite stock car driver was driving something that looked appropriate. She turned into the bank to deposit a check. I thought I'd continue home but got another half-block and thought, maybe she'd like to stop some place and eat, so I circled back to the bank.

When I pulled up beside them Ms. Pikachu was laughing and motioned for me to roll down the window. She told me to check out the back door.

Ms. Nascar had high-balled into the parking lot and side-swiped a post with my car. Hit the passenger-side mirror and scraped the paint off the rear door and fender, left a little dent. Would not be cheap. Couldn't believe it, but should have figured after the Petco incident. Fortunately for her, and me, I don't emotionally bond with my cars.

We got something to eat at an Italian place. She told me her glasses aren't doing the job, but wants to wait till next year for a replacement. Her idea is to set up a medical account for next year for the tax break and do glasses then. I told her having accidents would offset the tax savings. What if that had been a pedestrian instead of a pole? She agreed to call the optometrist today.

historical note- added to the spell-checker: Nascar, Petco, whoo-hoo, Monkees