First, thanks for all the wonderful comments. I truly appreciate it. When I win the Mega Millions Lotto, can I just take you all out and we’ll have punch and pie? Deal?
Yesterday I was two blocks away from my doctor’s office when we got into the wreck. I didn’t make it to my IUD appointment, which is a big bummer because I had been looking forward to doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel.
I thought about whether or not to post up pictures of the scrap of tin which is now my car but right now, I don’t want to fill this space with a serious case of ugly. Can I just tell you it looks bad? The hood now has a bent arc like a sneered lip.
My car is giving me its sex face.
In the other car, there was an older couple. The man asked me if I was okay and I said I was worried about my baby. He then asked if I was going to hold him and I said no because I thought I had relinquished all rights to be Nathan’s mother and I was sure that his new mother would soon pull up like a tow truck and whisk away my car and the son she would never dare let be involved in an accident.
The driver and I exchanged info and they drove away. I unbuckled my baby from his seat. He was laughing and giggling as if this was just one big bumper car ride. Nathan was unphased by the whole event and gave me the, “Why the hell have we stopped?” face. I took him to the front seat and began bawling. I thought I was going to vomit on him, which, I’m sure Nathan wouldn’t have minded because like his mother he believes in things like retribution and quid pro quo (I think this is also because I watched Silence of the Lambs and Bloodthirst III while he was in utero).
Mike arrived, smoking a cigarette even though he had quit. Never in my life had I wanted a cigarette more. Or a bottle of Jack. Or to be in that movie Groundhog Day.
It could have been worse. Something could have happened to Nathan or me. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself. But we are fine. My baby is fine. He is alive and unharmed. I just have to tell that to myself as I spend the next few days maxing out my credit card to spare my insurance premium.
I’m going to try to go to sleep now and there had better be a dream involving my sweet man hybrid of Colin Firth and Justin Timberlake or as I call him, Colin Timberfirth.