I ran into Rusty's car yesterday morning.
I was pulling out of the garage, on my way to school, and even though I do this exact thing every week, for some reason it never occurred to me that I should look behind me before I pulled out.
So I put my car in reverse and started to reverse and was really perplexed when I heard a crunch and then could not go any further. All the potential causes of the crunching went through my head: the trash can, the neighbor's trash can, the garage door, a box, a cat, the mailbox, Santa Clause? but never did Rusty's car cross my mind.
Then I got out and saw the butt of my car all smooshed up to the front of his. Poor cars.
I have no explanation for my lack of thinking except maybe this: The puke germs that I got, those awful germs that I got from my precious and lovely little baby, the germs that made me throw up more times in one day than I did throughout my entire pregnancy, those germs killed part of my brain.