Don’t be scared off by the gloomy first paragraph.  This post’s title alone ought to tell you there’s a story that’s worth sticking around for.  You may even be laughing by the time I’m done with it.

It’s been a stressful couple weeks around our house, and it doesn’t look as though it will be letting up anytime soon.  As if having issues with one kid isn’t enough, we now have an issue with another, and there are concerns about a third fraying around the edges of my mind.  (All I can say is, I’m glad we have ONLY four kids!)  And I have to admit, I haven’t always responded to things the way I should.  I’ve made a few bad choices myself over the last couple weeks and let fear & anger get the better of me, and it is the people I love the most who suffer from those bad choices.

And then… And then there are the bad choices that have nothing to do with anger or resentment or sin, but only with stupidity.

As if we didn’t have enough stress already, we now have a major car-repair bill, thanks to …um, me.  Told ya I had a story.

It happened Sunday morning.  We were driving separately to church, since I had a brief meeting afterwards.  Fuzz & I were in my van, while the others were in the house getting ready to follow.  I was pulling out of the driveway, a relatively simple task most days.  We have a few more vehicles than the average family, but we also have a very ample L-shaped driveway with something akin to a mini-parking lot at the bend.  There is plenty of room to maneuver around other vehicles, and it really isn’t difficult.  One would think.

I’m not sure what happened.  All I know is that, as I was backing up into the bend of the driveway, the thought suddenly occurred to me that I had bare legs and they might be stubbly.   You see, even in the summer when I’m constantly wearing shorts, I often forget to shave in the morning, or even to check and see if I need to.  Many days, I don’t give the condition of my legs a second thought until I am actually in the van going somewhere.  This is precisely what happened Sunday morning; I had barely put the van into reverse when I suddenly remembered that pesky little matter of leg hair.  Momentarily distracted by that thought, I continued backing my van toward my hubby’s Suburban, and …CRUNCH.

That sickening CRUNCH was NOT, in fact, the sound of my mini-van’s rear bumper backing into my hubby’s pride & joy.  No indeed.  It was the sound of my mini-van’s rear bumper backing into my son’s pride & joy.  Yes, that car, the beautiful, pristine little 2000 Cavalier that he bought last November and was so happy to own and drive.  I had somehow failed to notice it sitting innocently in its normal parking spot nearby, and in my distracted effort to back around the Suburban while simultaneously trying to determine whether my shins were presentable, I had backed right into it.  The sleek silver car, which to that point had had nary a scratch, now had a huge ugly dent in the panel behind the driver’s side door.

Hubby and son were not happy.  And of course, I felt horrible. 

(But yes, it is okay to laugh about that leg hair bit.  I just hope Biz never finds out the real reason I hit his car.)

Biz & Huz were too upset to go on to church; in fact, Huz was furious.  Ten minutes into the service, though, he slipped in next to me and put an arm around my shoulders.  I needed that.  But I still had to go face my son when I got home.  

He’d had some time to cool off and was somewhat forgiving, but still upset with me; not that I could blame him.  Huz already had a call into our mechanic friend, and of course we would pay for all repairs, but still…  All the things of mine that he’s ruined in his lifetime didn’t come anywhere close to this.   

And then there was my van.  The nicest, newest vehicle I have ever owned (4 yrs old when we bought it in ’05) was a bit worse for the wear as well, as it now sported a large dent in the rear hatch.  But that wasn’t really even on my radar; I just felt badly for Biz.

I didn’t even want to show up for dinner.  I thought would be absolutely miserable.   I pictured us all sitting around the table in stony, uncomfortable silence, hardly tasting the food, and then hastily retreating into our own corners for the rest of the day.  But that isn’t actually how things went.  Everyone was quite pleasant, and conversation flowed pretty much in the usual way.

And then it started.

Cheez:  Can I have some friends over later?

Mom:  Probably.  You can do a bonfire if you want.  (Looks at Biz.)  You know Biz, you could invite friends over sometimes too for a bonfire.

Huz:  But you might want to tell them to park over at the neighbors!

Biz: (laughs)

Cheez:  Hey Biz, I bet since Mom’s feeling guilty, she won’t give us a hard time if we want to go to the mall.  (Note: The idea of the kids going to the mall on Sunday afternoon usually does not fly with me, to put it mildly.)  So you want to?

Biz:  I don’t have a car to drive, remember?

Huz:  You can take Mom’s van.  It’ll be great; you can just park it wherever you want!

Biz:  Yeah, no parking spot?  No problem; I’ll just make one!  (Lots of crashing sound effects.)

Cheez:  If we do go, can we go to Barnes & Noble?

Biz:  Sure.  There’s a book I want to pick up for Mom.  I think it’s called Backing Down the Driveway for Dummies.

…And so it went.  You know, it is a really good sign when people can laugh about what you did to them.  I was more than happy to let the jokes at my expense keep right on coming.  And they did.  Or should I say, they do.  At this point, 4 days later, it is getting rather old, but I can take it.  It’s so much better than stony silence.

I’m happy to say that our mechanic friend did a wonderful job.  As of 5:30 this evening, Biz’s car is back in the driveway looking just as sleek and pristine as it used to.  Though it is not exactly in the same spot.  He has now parked it on the other side of Huz’ cargo van, where it is shielded from the reach of errant vehicles driven by distracted mothers.

But it wasn’t cheap.  Hence the title of my post.  And let me tell you, if I could choose to spend $755 on anything I wanted, I bet I could come up with quite a list--  and I can guarantee you that “the momentary exhilaration of metal-on-metal contact” would NOT be on it.   No doubt about it, it was an expensive game of bumper cars.

And all over leg hair.  *Sigh*