Leaves were skipping all over the road, getting pinned by the gutter and then freed with a new breeze, buffeting them up the nature strip, along the footpath and up into the air to start the dance all over again. The sun was doing that thing where it streams through the trees, landing on your hands which are gripping the wheel, warming them from the previous hour and a half spent in a blindingly cold westerly wind. I love it when it does that.

The rugby match had ended in a blazing 44-0 victory and once in the car on the way home the smell of victory was palpable albeit not particularly saying love, light, rainbows and unicorns. The little boys were quiet, recovering from a particularly early start for their own brand of footy and then blustery sideline action for their big brother.

We were heading to the Mall for Mother’s Day sushi, curiously not at all what I felt like but what the youngest of the brood had demanded and which was strongly supported by his fellow kind. Something was rolling around in the back of the car, a common enough issue in the Tip on Wheels that is our vehicular mode of transport, but one I found particularly jarring on this brilliantly clear but freezing day.

That nano-second of realisation – the looking up, the realising I was veering left, the (sudden) appearance of a stationary vehicle, the immediate over-correction and that fleeting “oh crap” moment when you know collision is imminent – was brutal.

Followed by the complete silence as everyone tries to process what just happened. It is as fleeting as that moment just before impact but it’s there. And then the shaking and the tears.

On Sunday, Mother’s Day, I drove into the back of a parked car.

There is nothing quite like the sound of one car crushing into another. It’s a particular tone, like that of an aluminium can being crushed under foot but a lot louder, more dramatic and well, bad. I’d located the source of irritation rolling around in the back, one of the little boys’ new water bottles they’d received that morning from their footy club. Funny, I’d been deliberating on new water bottles for the boys for months but could never justify the cost of the ones they liked (around $8 or so). This “free” one has now set me back $625 in our insurance excess. Awesome work there Kim, awesome.

On finding the offender I, naturally, took my eyes off the road, reached around and grabbed it. Somewhat in the vein of the last 50,000 times I’ve reached around to grab something rolling around on the floor that’s giving me the absolute shits or when the need had arisen to throw something at one of the children.

And there you have it.

What followed was an excruciating period of time which I filled nicely with lots of spontaneous tears, comforting the boys, and offering apologies to the poor innocent owners of the car I’d hit. I marvel at how the accident takes mere seconds but the aftermath drags on like a soft sand marathon.

Chef summed it up nicely when he put his arms around me and said, ‘If you didn’t want sushi you could have just said so.’


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
  • Bugger! Nothing like a car crash to pull what bit of rug was left, completely out from under you – glad no one was hurt (physically) and on an even brighter note – no one will be suggesting Sushi in your house for a while.
    Jody Pearl recently posted..12 Splice Skirts…..but who’s counting.

  • Shit. Massive hugs
    Pixie recently posted..I think….

  • Oh hon. HON!!! Bloody hell. Now *that’s* crumpled.

    Wishing you a quick repair time.


  • Crumpled indeed. I saw a car run into the back of a stopped bus (that had been stopped for quite some time) on a clear, low traffic morning outside the collaroy movies once. I guess at least your collision was just with a car, far less visible and embarrassing and government owned? Though it seriously sucks that you have this payment now on top of all your other money worries. Hope things sort out soon for you!
    The Accidental Housewife recently posted..Biohazard

  • Linda

    love Chef’s dry humour

    love it!

  • It sucks al kind of suckages, but I would still like to be your fb friend if thats ok….seeing as your blog will not show up in my reader….

    • Dude, I miss you, as if you’d get bumped.

  • Paola

    Chef is AWESOME!

  • He’s a good guy, Chef, but I’m hoping you still got some Mother’s Day goodness.
    (Perhaps not sushi.)
    blackbird recently and words

    • No, not really. So.many.tears. Seems to be a bit of a theme around here of late.

  • What a sweetheart Chef is – deflecting the incident with humour. Huge bugga Kim.

    My friend accelerated 9instead of braking) her car into her house (on Monday) (or the one she rents from her mother)- she found out car is covered with excess- house repairs are not.
    Trish recently posted..Wordless Wednesday ~ Flashdance

  • Denyse Whelan. Education Specialist

    Chef knows you well and loves you very much. He is a good man. As for you, a good woman…oh haven’t we all done stuff like that.. Taken our eyes of the job at hand..then…&£#% … NOT what you needed at all.. But it’s done…and I hope you can feel ok too. Xx
    Denyse Whelan. Education Specialist recently posted..Is N.A.P.L.A.N. now P.A.N.I.C. time?

  • Pingback: field marshall duties, rugby union allconsuming()