Luck

We've all done it. Drop something in the floorboard of your car. Reach into the backseat to grab something. I'm guilty of it.

Yesterday afternoon I had just left my house when this overwhelmingly grotesque smell hit me. Soured food. I found the culprit, whose lid had fallen off, laying just behind me in the backseat floorboard. I reached around with my left hand to grab the offending bowl and lid. I took my eyes off the road for only a second. That's when it happened.

It all happened so fast that I can barely remember it. I heard the rumble strips from the side of the road. Before I could even grab the steering wheel with both hands, I was in the ditch. On the wrong side of the road. This isn't your typical every day generally sloping ditch. I thought for sure that I was flipping. All I saw was grass flying and I realized that the road was nearly perpendicular to the roof of the car.




Most people would slam on the brakes, right? Nope, not me. I just kept on going, steering myself out of the massive ditch, up onto the road, drove down the wrong the side of the road for a second with a flat tire, and pulled into the nearest driveway. I slowly put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Said holy sh*t about five times. Then tried to open the door. It was stuck. I said to myself that this situation was just wonderful. I banged the car up so much that I can't get the drivers door open. I gave it a little harder of a shove and it popped open. Moaning and groaning, but it opened. I got out and surveyed the damage. I was actually surprised to see that the only visible damage was a flatten and off the rim tire and a little caving/denting of the metal right in front of the door. Plus a little grass and dirt here and there.



Somehow during all this I had managed to not lose my phone. I did what any one else would do in this situation, I called my mom. I had been on my way to pick up the kids from school and I needed her to go retrieve them as obviously I wasn't going to be able to drive. I knocked on the door of my closest neighbor, embarrassed that I had to meet them this way, and explained what had happened and that my husband and I would get the car in just a couple of hours. She had no problem and was probably more concerned that she should have been for someone whom I didn't know, but that's one of the great things about living in the country. People care. She offered to drive me home, seeing as how it was only a half mile down the road, but I declined saying that I could probably use the time to calm down.

I stopped at the car to grab my wallet, my car keys, Chris' car keys (he had left them in the car), and the kids after school snacks. Down the road I went. I now call it my walk of shame. I had to call Rubi to let her know that coming to the Girl Scout meeting was probably going to be out for me. She was, of course, very understanding. As I was talking to her, I was walking by the ditch. I noticed a fairly large section of plastic something-or-other. I determined that it was inevitable that it belonged to my car so I picked it up. There I am walking down the road, hands full of junk and a big ol' honkin' piece of plastic, calling my mom back to let her know I was hoofing it back to the house, when I hear a car slowing creeping up on me. I at first thought it might have been my oh so nice, newly met, neighbor. Nope. Sheriff's Department. Now you see why I call it my walk of shame. He simply asked if I needed some assistance and was I ok. "Sure, I'm fine!", I said. "Just had a little mishap with the ditch back there, but I'm good." "Well, all right.", he says and off he drove.

Fast forward a couple of hours... I didn't catch Rubi in time to keep her from driving all the way to the house so she'd come, picked up the Girl Scout stuff, and gone. Mom had retrieved and delivered the kids. I'd already tried to explain what had happened to my ever so level headed husband, who informed me that he'd just stop on his way home and put the spare tire on it. THE SPARE TIRE?!?! In all that confusion, I had completely forgotten that I even had a spare tire.

Chris calls and says that he needs me to bring him the keys. That he and the guy that he carpools with have gotten the misshapen and off the rim tire off the car and the spare tire is on. I get there and see that they have gotten the tire back on the rim, but it needs air. He drives the car on the spare to the carpool guys house to use the air tank there. They put the tire back on the rim and inflate it. Chris brings it back to the house. I could not believe that this tire was holding air. I looked it over from one side to the other and I can find no damage to it at all. We put it back on the car and Chris takes it for a test drive down the road. He gets back to the house, shrugs his shoulders, and says, "Drives fine." WHAT?!

I was so very lucky. I was lucky I was wearing my seat belt (I always wear it!). I was lucky there was nothing in the ditch. I was lucky there wasn't any oncoming traffic like the semi's that barrel through here everyday. I was lucky that the only thing seemingly wrong was a flat tire. I'm still not sure how I got out of this except for the fact that instead of freezing up, I gave it more gas.

Moral of the story... Learn to live with the stinky things in life.

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