They know, but they're not talking.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Smith and I had a houseguest, Ms. PJ Silver (Peej. PJ; two whole syllables, really?) Tommy and I had to go to work the next the morning and left Peej to sleep in the guest room as long as she liked. No worries; we're very mi casa es su casa.

Until I got a text offer from Peej to pay for landscaping services.

I panicked and called to ask what was wrong. She sent this picture to me:

this is her truck in our yard. it cracked both me and tommy up.

Obviously, no damage to either the truck or to our yard; and in fact, the AAA Peej called in was cancelled because our City of Knoxville garbage truck came by in the nick of time and winched Peej's truck off of the rail road tie.

But Tommy and I kept asking: "How did you do that? How did it happen? What happened? How did this happen?"

Quote Peej: "I don't know."

Well, we wrote it off as a fluke. Until the other day.

Tommy leaves the house, allegedly to "vacuum out his truck." He comes back about 15 minutes later and asks me to call a tow truck. I ask why. He asks me not to ask.

Um.

Well, a picture is worth a thousand words:

i kept asking how this happened. if he knows, he's certainly not telling.

He also got very angry when I initially tried to take a picture so I didn't. He decided to be a good sport and he took this one himself. The tow truck driver was totes nice and winched him out (dangit, City of Knoxville; where are you when I need you?) and his truck and our yard are no worse for the wear.

I fully expect to drive my Jetta into a ditch tomorrow.

*ring, ring!* *ring, ring!*

"Hello, this is Megan."

"Hello, Megan, this is Karma."