Priorities

I ran a couple of errands tonight in Mrs. Skeptic's car. In the Home Depot parking lot, I was unsuccessful in my attempt to get through the obstacle course of shopping carts. The damage -- a few scuff marks on the front bumper. (In NASCAR, they call it "tradin' paint.")

When I came home, tired from Day 19 of the Persistent Springtime Viral Crud, I profusely apologized.

Mrs. Skeptic fussed with me. Not over the car. Over the "grape drink" I'd bought to keep my fluids up. It's 170 calories per 10-ounce jug.

The car? Not a problem.

I love this woman.