On Tuesday I got into a car accident. A line of cars was braking and everyone stopped--except the girl behind me. She slammed into my rear bumper. I got some whiplash, but the kids seemed fine. Somehow, in the midst of it all, I did manage to save the dessert on the passenger's seat from launching onto the floor. You can see where my priorities are!
I would never wish for a car accident, but it has been handy to reinforce what we have been saying to E. about the necessity of seat belts and sitting in your seat properly.
Then on Wednesday, we needed milk. Actually, we needed milk on Monday, but I kept putting off the errand (something about two boys, a small space, and glass bottles made me less than enthusiastic). The back of our car was scraped up, but that was all, so I didn't think anything of going downtown to get some milk. I even bought an extra half gallon to make some yogurt, which brought our total up to a gallon and a half. I loaded everyone into the car, turned the key, and heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. Really? Is this really happening? I asked myself, a question I would keep asking as the week went on.
I tried to call Dave, but I wasn't getting any cell phone service (it was a cloudy day) and I had hardly any battery left. I tried calling a friend for a ride, but . . . still, no service. . .
Right. Alright. So we're really doing this. . .
Thank the Lord, my stroller, huge beast that it is, was in my trunk. I unloaded the kids, reloaded them into the stroller, along with some chicken and three glass bottles full of milk. It was one time I was thankful for a messy car since we had plenty of hats and mittens to keep everyone warm on the almost-two-mile hike back home.
About ten minutes down the road, I was able to reach Dave and he started trying to figure out what to do about the car, which was parked in a two-hour space. He called the city ("please be lenient, we're trying to move our car!") and a towing/auto repair place. But what do you know? The tow truck guy needed the car key. Well, I was not turning around after I had already been walking for half an hour. No, sir. Not a chance. Dave decided (with a little help from me. . . ) to drop the key off on the way home from work and to pray the city would not give us a ticket in the meantime.
The kids and I stopped off at a park on the way and met some friends. Why miss out on a play-date just because of some minor car trouble?
Then the coup de gras on the day: we made it all the way home, and, as I was pushing our stroller up the driveway, one of the milk bottles fell out and shattered, sending a river of whole, grass-fed, low-pasteurized milk down the sidewalk. (Really? Did that just happen!?) I managed to lug them all the way home and then mere feet from door, one half-gallon falls out and breaks??? Whatever. I wanted to go to bed and wake up on a different day. But even that wouldn't have helped. . .
On Thursday, in an unprecedented moment of stupidity--even for me--I put our laptop too close to a candle and burned a big hole into the back of the monitor. I caught it before it went too far, so to speak, but now we have a permanent gray mark about the size of a lime on our computer screen. I thought about blaming the kids, but I'd still come out looking bad for letting my kids play with candles. Oh well. The maple pancake smell was good while it lasted.
P.S. Our car has started every single time since that adventurous morning.