Admit It

When living in Walcott, we lived in a rock house. One night we were getting ready to leave and Rachel, who was just learning to drive asked if she could drive the car out of the driveway for us. I told her it would be fine. 

The next week Phil and I were in town and when I came around the front of the car noticed that the bumper was scratched. When I got in I was complaining about someone scraping my bumper and not having the guts to tell me about it. 

A couple weeks went by before we were leaving the house one night and as the light beam hit the corner of the house I couldn't believe my eyes. There was a dark blue green strip of paint, matching where it had once belonged on my car. 

I told Phillip I was not going to tell Rachel that I knew. But when she asks to use it I will let her know she can't drive it until she mans up and takes responsibility for an accident she had. 

We had been working at the restaurant one night Rachel huffed and leaned over the back of my seat. She said ,"Alright! I may as well admit it." I asked what she was admitting  to and she said "Running the car into the house."