The Saturday Saga

It was a Tuesday.

It didn't start out so very bad.  It started out just fine. Except that I was really tired for some reason, and I still had to finish unpacking from Disney, and my kitchen still had to be put away, and I had two loads of laundry waiting for me to fold it.

I took Andrew to Story Hour at the library, and we were going to have an early lunch and a nap, so I would feel rested up for the rest of the afternoon and actually make soe headway in my huge mountain of chores.

I was just grabbing a can of alphabet soup for Andy's lunch when Steve walked into the kitchen and suggested we go to Nashua to pick up the light fixtures.

I wasn't happy about it, because I was really hungry and really tired. But I am an adult, and was able to realize this would be better in the long run. I could nap later. So I said OK.

Andy, however, is 4. He was very unhappy about putting off lunch, even though it was only 11am. He wanted ABC soup, and he wanted it NOW. He didn't want to eat out.

I tried reasoning with Andy, and then bribing him, and then finally just picked him up and flung him into the car.

We picked up the lights from a rude lady who apparently mistook snooty for profesional. We went to lunch at an irish pub that got very crowded very quickly. I realized I forgot to call the lady that works for the school district so I could get fingerprinted tand could then go on Nick's class trip the next day.  And then, finally, we headed home.

I was driving, even though I really didn't want to be.

And I was tired, and was really looking forward to a nap.

We were so close, on our street about a mile from the house.

I kind of saw it happen before it actually happened. You see things rushing toward to windshield sometimes - rocks, branches. Usually they thump and them bounce off. But this was a huge branch, one with leaves. It hit the corner of the car and made a huge loud crashing noise. I instinctively closed my eyes and turned away from the branch.

When I opened my eyes the windshield was cracked. There was an impact point not quite unlike a bullet hole in the upper passenger side corner, and cracks shot out from there. The windshield was still up, but there was enough damage to spray glass all over Steve.

When we got home, we were able to see where the branch had hit the body of the car - it was dented, paint scraped away.

If I had been driving six inches to the left, maybe it would have just brushed off of us.

If I had been driving six inches to the right, maybe it would have crashed right through and into Steve's head.

I flapped around the house like a crazy wet hen while Steve did the actual work calling the insurance company and getting the car fixed.

We were down to one car on the day of the field trip, for piano lessons, karate lessons. I have been cramming all three kids into the back of Steve's station wagon, which smells like gas.

Mostly I was just shaken by the whole thing. It was so random. What are the chances of being hit by a huge falling tree branch? It's like the sky was falling. I drove by there twenty minutes later (on my way to get fingerprinted) and there was no branch on the road. No huge half-tree thing which I imagined must be necessary to make such damage.

So... yeah. It took me longer than I thought it would to unpack, put my kitchen in order (not quite done) and catch up on laundry (I give myself until Monday.)