Honda... The Silent Killer
I've become convinced in recent weeks that my new Honda CR-V is out to do me and Maria some harm.
Climbing out of the car and slamming the door has become a painful experience, as almost inevitably I'm treated to a rather strong static shock. The kind that create a big spark at night. The kind that starts at your hand but quickly travels through your body. Ouch.
So I've taken to finding unique ways to shut the car door, as long as it doesn't involve actually touching the side of the door with my hands. I'll use my bag, a spare napkin or even my elbow to slam it shut. (Well, my elbow retired from duty when it, too, was shocked last week.) Next step: Keeping a box of rubber gloves in the car, at my fingertips.
Meanwhile, Maria has now been hit twice by the passenger door, once on her forehead, and once -- just today -- on her leg. Both incidents have been mighty painful. I'm blaming the car for now, although Maria may just be a clutz. (Evidence: Her car has hit her quite a few times too.)
Still, for sake of argument, further proof that the car has it in for us. Perhaps we haven't been nurturing enough. Maybe it doesn't quite feel a part of the family yet, particularly on the weekends, when I park it on the street and the car is splashed by errant sprinklers.
I'm hoping things will change when the new car's license plates finally arrive from the DMV. At that point, it will finally have a name.
In the meantime, if you need any plastic gloves, I've got a box of 'em in the back seat.
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