Here's a PSA for you. Curbs eat tires. Especially if you hit them.
Guess what? I hit a curb on my way into the Thrift Store this evening. "WHAMP!" I knew it wasn't good. I parked the car, jumped out and immediately heard a very loud "SSSSSSS." Crap. I pulled off the hill and down to the end of the parking lot that was basically flat and I made sure that I was under a big light. Then I called Hubs. He didn't answer, so I left a message. Then I called again in a few more minutes. I knew that he was supposed to meet me there, so he was just around the corner. Then, like a kid who was just busted for doing something wrong, I told him what I did. You know what? My husband didn't yell at me. He could have. I'm a massive flipper over dumb stuff sometimes. He wasn't even mad when the zipper for the tire cover was frozen solid and I had to go into the thrift to their bathroom and fill my half frozen bottle of water with warm water to get the zipper to let loose. He wasn't mad when he had to remind me to pull the emergency brake. He wasn't mad when he found out what I knew-- I blew the sidewall of the tire and trashed it.
Such an understanding husband. Especially when he knew that I was kicking myself time and time again for it. I saw cars going so fast behind me. That corner of the lot is a little dark. I spazzed and turned too early. Call that last year's rear end incident with the old RAV still too fresh. Hubs' response to that? "'We've got insurance. Don't worry if they are going to hit you. You are in a good car. We'd get you another new one."
My thrift trip wasn't so cheap. Oh, in the store was $4.10. Out of the store will probably be $100.00 +. Let's hope that I didn't trash the pressure sensor in the rim like my brother thinks that I may have.