It seems like whenever really bad things happen to me, my husband is flying.
Today, after I dropped my daughter off at school, my son and I were in a car accident.
We're fine, but it had the potential to be pretty bad. I was driving in the right hand lane of a two lane major road when a car came out of a parking lot and t-boned right into us. I saw it coming and was able to pull partially to the left and accelerate so that she didn't hit us head-on.
But that is some scary shit.
First of all, she pushed us into the lane of oncoming traffic. Luckily, at that time in the morning, there were no cars coming. The impact was enough to send everything in the car flying, but interestingly enough, the air bags didn't deploy. I don't think I have side curtain airbags. My mother was hit the same way once, and her mini van rolled. I know I'm lucky.
My son was completely unphased by the whole thing. He just asked me to hand him back his book and wondered why we were stopping. He thought the big bang and the police car were pretty cool.
If my daughter had been in the car, she would have been a wreck. Those things upset her a lot. She also might not be with us anymore, because the car impacted us right where she would have been sitting. In fact, her empty car booster seat was shoved into the passenger side seat.
What about me? Well, I was amazed at just how calm I felt. It was like as soon as my brain accepted the fact that this car would be hitting us, I became completely calm. I pulled out of oncoming traffic. I asked my son if he was okay. I called 911. And then I took care of the woman who hit us.
She was uninjured but very badly shaken up. When she realized that my son was in the car, I thought she was going to lose it. I kept telling her that we were fine. That this is why we have insurance. That every thing would be okay. I was even hugging this woman.
She was also honorable enough to admit to the police officer that it was all her fault. That should help me deal with the insurance company.
I have to admit that I'm more shaken up then I want to admit. This is the first car accident I've ever been in. I had a completely perfect driving record before this. This is the first time I've ever called 911.
I wanted my husband home right away. I even tried calling him at work to see if I could catch him before he took off. But he was gone. It wasn't until I got home and sat down to call my insurance agent that I lost it a little. That was too fucking close.
And you know, I hate that my car is messed up. The alignment is shot. The doors won't open. The tires are making weird noises. I was able to get it home, but I really shouldn't have driven it. The truth is that I never want to drive that car again. I wish I had the money to just go out and buy myself a new mini van.
So I did the next best thing. I went and stole my husband's truck from his parking spot at work. I forced myself to drive it around on and off base for about fifteen minutes to get back on the horse, so to speak. I left him messages to let him know that I borrowed his truck. I hope he gets them before he goes out to the parking lot after he lands and finds it missing. That just might give him a coronary.
But right now, I'm in this weird panicky place. Every time I hear a car go by my house, I wish it were my husband coming home. But he won't be driving home today anyway. He'll be hoofing it.
Poor baby. He just lost his new truck to his wife, and he doesn't even know it yet.