The good news is that I saved ten dollars.

There are two parking spaces in front of our house, but you'll seldom find my car there. Somehow I always end up parking across the street or around the corner. It never really bothers me, but when I am so privileged as to find one of these premier spaces open, I get a little excited.

Like yesterday; we all were late coming home from work, and despite leaving the office at 5:40, I was the first to pull up.

Reveling in my good timing, I pulled in to secure my place in front of the house.

Did I say pulled in?

I'm sorry; I mean I slammed in. Because I apparently didn't turn far enough, fast enough. And my bumper/tire collided with the massive curb in front of our house. There was a loud, crunchy smack and my car reeled from the impact. I jumped out and couldn't figure out what the big deal was; it didn't look all that bad. And I was awkwardly angled into the street, so I hopped back in to set about straightening it out.

It was a little tricky.

Because my tire was flat.

Somehow I managed to not only put a rather large dent in my bumper, I also bent my tire rim.

It's no big deal, really. I haven't replaced two tires, a serpentine belt, and a battery on top of dealing with one other flat in the past month or so. NO problem.

So I did what any rational 20-something woman would do: I called my mom.

Luke pulled up when I was on the phone (or maybe it was while I was readjusting from my collision - it's all a blur). He looked at the tire, then at me, smirked a little and pulled a tire iron out of his own car. You know, just in case I wanted help.

I refused to deal with it last night, so Luke helped put on my spare this morning, and off I drove (slowly, with great caution) to Firestone.

They're going to know me by name at that place before too long. It's great though; it's right across the street from West Isle Urgent Care, my other frequent hangout. I'm a one-stop shopping kind of girl.

Even though today required two stops. Firestone doesn't stock rims. So they sent me around the corner to a shady-looking garage with a young mechanic who kept calling me "mama" and teasing me ("No no, the curb jumped out and hit YOU, not the other way around.").

They had a rim, and he sold it to me for ten dollars less than it should have been ("Well, normally it's forty, but I'm going to give it to you for thirty."). In 15 minutes, I was fixed up and on my way. I didn't even have to replace the tire I bought a little over a month ago.

So that was pretty cool.

And I'm never parking in front of the house again.