A Parking Story

Let me tell you a story.
I'm awful at parking.
While dating, Taylor used to laugh at me and my parking skills (or complete lack thereof).
But Taylor has realized that it's come to the point that "laughing about it" isn't cutting it anymore.
So, he has resorted to re-teaching me how to park.
I pretty much get a little lesson every time we are about to park.
I act like I'm really paying attention and really focused on his parking lectures, but secretly, I am holding back my laughter until he gets out of the car. 
Because really...how ridiculous is this situation?
I am 21 years old, and my husband is teaching me how to park a car.
 And the saddest part?
I desperately need these lessons.
Don't believe me?
Take a look for yourself:

Taylor is trying to measure how far away I was from the curb....ha.
New day....same parking problem.
Taylor reparking the car.
I don't have a picture of trying to park in a parking lot.
But just imagine this little scene:
Taylor holding his breath and saying, "Think skinny thoughts, think skinny thoughts" every time he tries to get out of the car.
A debacle that usually lasts a good minute or two, because he is being so careful not to hit the car next to us with his door.
I tend to park very close to the car on the right-hand side of us.
Whoops. Sorry, Tay.

Oh, and look what I have:
A video of Taylor teaching me how to park so that he has enough room to park his truck behind my car.

The theme of this little saga?

I am awful at parking.
And Taylor is significantly embarrassed.
The end.

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