Oops, I did it again. And not in a Brittany Spears way. In an “I messed up my car, again” way. I can not even believe what I did. I can not even make up my life right now. I just can’t.
In order to redeem myself, let me tell you the events of the last 24 hours BEFORE I did it again. What is IT? Keep reading.
1. I am on the board of our local PTO.
2. We had an event today.
3. I ran like crazy last night, getting set up for the event, going to the first home ball game, and then coming home and making 100 pancakes until 11:00 p.m. for the event.
4. I was up at 6:30 a.m. to get set up at event.
5. We got done cleaning up at event at 12:00 p.m.
6. I got home and started to clean the house before we had to go to a parade for our middle daughter.
7. I spent time making middle daughter look like Cindy Lou Who, complete with ornate hairdo and elaborate outfit.8. We left the house on time-ish. Let me just tell you, accomplishing number 8 is HUGE and never happens. Never. And today, I hopped in and looked at the clock amazed that we were only 5 minutes behind.
Victory! I even commented the same to my Mother. She wanted to ride along since she had made a beautiful red cape for our middle daughter’s costume. I had just opened the hatch to our SUV and thrown our monstrous bag in and pushed the button on the side to close it.
I backed out of the garage and immediately heard a crunch. I looked back and noticed that the back hatch was still up. I pulled back in the garage. Put down the hatch and see that I have dented the hatch and torn off a trim piece that held the back up camera.
CRAP! I know that I have to call Shawn and tell him I messed up the car. This is no small scrape. It will have to be fixed. And it will cost money. Money that I imagine he has crumpled up in his fist and is none too eager to fork over.
But I am an adult. Accidents happen. I should have checked that the hatch didn’t reopen, but live and learn. I got back in the car and tried to shake it off. I took a couple of deep breaths and told myself it is all going to be fine. I threw the car back in reverse and stepped on the gas. I can not see anything because the backup camera is hanging on by a thread.
I pay no mind and backed up my driveway and to the right to pull turn around in our cul-de-sac. And then CRUNCH. I backed into my Mom’s van. I.AM.NOT.EVEN.KIDDING.
“SH*T!” I yelled, the terrible Christian that I am, with my very straight-laced, Christian Momma sitting right next to me. She probably had half a mind to slap me for my profanity, but she knew by the look on my face that I was almost to the nuthouse by now.
And right then, I reflected on my life. Thoughts like, “Who does this crap? How much longer is my husband going to put up with my shenanigans?” He has a wife who is LITERALLY playing bumper cars with the family vehicle. At that exact moment, I would totally understand if he decided to pack it in. I mean, it’s been fun. We had a good run, but maybe its best for him to hit the road before I burn the house down.
At this point, I want to get out and see how bad I have wrecked her van. I am not EVEN worried about my car ’cause gosh dang, I just damaged it not even 27 stinkin’ seconds ago. I am pretty sure it looks like I have been in a local derby. I know my bumper is a goner. My back hatch is messed up, the right bumper had already shared a little skin with a guard rail three winters ago and I just tagged the left side of the bumper. HOLY CRAP.
Before I can even put my hand on the door handle, my stoic and classy Mother, exhaled and turned to me and says, “I am not even going to worry about that right now. Let’s just go.”
She didn’t acknowledge that I have a brain the size of a pea or that my frantic rushing was the cause for this utter insolence. Rather, she urged me with her words to stay calm and collected and worry about the crater I left in the driver’s side of her van later. She is no dummy, she knew she was about to ride 30 miles with me. She, obviously, was worried about her safety. Also, I imagine her reasoning, why add to the mayhem by being late to the parade?
Astonishingly, I managed to get the rest of the car to the parade in one piece.
But I had to make the call to my husband who was meeting us at the parade. I started out with my only ace in the hole. “You love me, right?” And I told him that we would laugh, reaaalllly hard about this. Probably not today, or tomorrow, or even next month.
