If there was an agency like child protective services that responds to abuse or neglect of vehicles, the authorities would have been called on me this week. I have taken very poor care of the gift that Corey and I bought ourselves for Christmas. I am glad that it's my car that is neglected and endangered and not my children.
One day last week, my coworker called me on my cell phone to ask me where I was. I responded that I was standing outside my office and inquired into his whereabouts. Turns out, he was standing, in the rain, next to my running car in the parking lot of my office building. HELLO! He turned the car off, locked it, brought me my keys and did not give me shit about it at all that day, which I truly appreciate.
On Monday, I was on my way to meet the boys at their pediatrician's office to inquire into some changes about Jake's medicine for the summer. Having never been there before, I had mapped the route on the GPS on my iPhone. I was stopped at a red light on Goodwood at Chevelle, looking in my lap reviewing my directions, when I saw the cars in my left periphery zooming past me, I accelerated. Unfortunately I did this at the same time that I looked up and saw the Suburban With a Trailer Hitch in front of me not moving at the green light. I hit them.
That was the first time I've ever rear-ended someone. I've been hit on the passenger side twice, and in April I backed into a parked car that was parallel parked behind me. I'm usually a very good driver. I lost it, meaning all sense of order, around the middle of April and I have not gotten it back together yet. It's returning to me in pieces.
The officer who showed up fifty minutes after I called him did not ticket me. Thank God law enforcement recognizes a Blue Star sticker. He'd just gotten out of the military the year before, having been to Iraq, Afghanistan and North Korea. I was honest about what I was doing and how I happened to run into the stopped car in front of me, but that woman did not go when the light turned green, and he can recognize a distraught Army wife when he sees one.
The trailer hitch I ran into was stoped by my LSU license plate, so I only have to replace the grill, which is $214. I feel less bad about that. My husband seemed to blow it off when it happened so I was surprised at the irritation he expressed the following day when I told him I would just superglue the grill back together if I could. Not only did he want me to fix the car, he wanted me to have not wrecked it in the first place.
This morning the boys and I went to get into the car, which would parked in front of my door, to run a number of errands, one of which being to drop off their dad's care package at the post office. Only, I was sure I had taped up that box and now the flaps were all mismatched. And I was pretty sure the box had contents yesterday, but now it was empty. This box contained Zapp's Cajun Crawtaters, Crystal Light, razorblades, AA batteries, AAA batteries, his gaming magazines and dusting supplies. Son of a bitch.
And once I got in the car and opened the center console, I was devastated to find that my iPod, the one I've had since 2005 that my parents gave me that had "Nell Nell Ring My Bell" engraved on it, had also been jacked. I feel safe that the asshat who took it is not going to regard it as a treasure once he finds it full of showtunes, Chicago and Bette Midler. So in addition to the $214 I have to pay for wrecking my car, I also have to pony up the money for a new iPod.
Corey is on a mission, so he does not know this happened. Yet.
I did get a freebie on having to use my cuss cup this morning, though. Those boys are some generous.
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