Fatal Friday: My Latest Brush With Death!

Well, maybe not a brush, but, we were in the same vicinity.

//pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({
google_ad_client: “ca-pub-1865631319996123”,
enable_page_level_ads: true
});

Friday night, I drove my daughter to her Eighth Grade Dance.  I was ready to go at the appointed time that she appointed via text earlier that evening.  We hopped in the car and took off.  She sat in front.  I was honored: I was taking her somewhere her friends would be, and she was allowing me to be seen with her.

A few blocks before P Road and R Road, I remembered seeing her ticket on the desk while I checked email.

“Do you have your ticket?”

Her shoulders dropped as she let out a heavy sigh.  As I prepared for teen age admonishment, a sudden flash of realization on her face, followed by a smile, told me all I needed to know.

“No,” she said, sounding more like a question than an answer.

“OK, let’s go get it.”  One parking lot later and we were on our way back home.

In the driveway, I gave he my house key to go get her ticket.  I had the Tribe game on the radio, and didn’t want to turn the engine off.

Cut to us back on the road, heading for the dance.  As we got t the place where we turned around, all the other cars were merging to the right.

“Now what the fuck?”  I’d like to say that was what I thought.  Truth is, that’s what i said under my breath.  And by under my breath, I mean, you couldn’t hear Hammy announce a called Strike Three.

There had been an accident at the intersection of P Road and R Road.  It didn’t just happen.  It was fairly recent, because I didn’t see it the first time we were headed this way. Something dawned on me, but, I didn’t say anything right away.  Just breathe and drive and let the nice Policeman direct us around the accident and the emergency vehicles and the wreckers in the intersection.  I even let a woman cut through the line as she was trying to get out of Mr. Chicken.

On to the dance.  A couple of blocks past the accident, I told my daughter it was a good thing she forgot her ticket.

“Why?”

“Pretty good chance that could have been us back there.”

Epilogue

We got to the school and I maneuvered into the drop-off line.  While stopped a couple of car lengths back from where the other kids were getting out, she unhooked her seat belt, said “Bye,” got out, and went to the dance.  So much for the honor of being seen with her.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s