I once exited the supermarket to see a nasty new mark on my silver Honda Civic. What would my husband say? I crouched down, pulled a tissue from my pocket, and rubbed at it furiously. It made little difference, so I got up--to find the car's actual owner studying me curiously.

At least you're working on your own car, Bev. My Civic was parked three spots over.

Thanks for making reading about car ownership fun!