Retirement encourages disasters

My truck is in the shop getting repairs on some little dents and a rear view mirror that was unexplicably removed last christmas. So, as a result, I'm driving Mean Green- my dad's 4-door F250 diesel extended cab with a topper that's so big that I can't go through some car washes. Well, this morning after class I went to my parents house to bum around until my next class. Mean Green has a winch on the front of the truck that makes the truck about 2 feet longer but you can't see it from the cab so if you're not experienced in driving this tank-beast you may not realize that its that far out. So was the case this morning when I crashed into my parents garage- winch first. You'd expected my dad to throw a fit and curse and make me fix it and/or pay for it. No. That didn't happen. He looked almost happy about it. Like, now he actually has something to do with his day other than play freecell, workout or take 3 hour lunches since he's basically retired. Granted, I didn't bombard through the garage, it was only a chunk a few inches large out of it. But still, you'd expect a small fit. He was almost relieved to have an excuse to have something to dink around with. Man, does he need a good hobby. Maybe I'll teach him to latch hook.