You know, I don’t really consider my Ford Explorer to be a large car. It’s just the way God, er Ford, made it. Sure it seats about twenty and is probably the size of a Space Shuttle, but other than that, perfectly normal.

So we turned into the parking garage, with me still under the assumption that it was a normal sized vehicle. Little did I know that the entire garage was made for Barbie sized cars. Wee little spots surrounded us. Signs for “Compact Cars Only” were the norm and with each turn, I was afforded a generous quarter inch of leeway. “Oh, don’t mind me. I don’t really need these side mirrors.”

Eventually we found an empty space that appeared as if it would fit my ride to Lilliputian land. I pulled in successfully and opened my door to find that I could not squeeze out.

Crawling over the center console and exiting the passenger door, I acknowledged that I should have driven my Hot Wheels car downtown. Oh yeah, that and maybe, just maybe my car is on the large side.