mazdilla
09-20-2010, 11:53 PM
I haven't been on here in while 'cause:
Last Tuesday, September 7th, was the first day of school for the kiddies in our district, and being a school teacher, I was just as anxious and apprehensive as they were that morning.
I got up early, made a coffee, walked the Westies, showered, caught a little of Canada AM and walked out the door at 7:15. I left a little early 'cause I new that the roads would be extra busy with parents driving their kids to school on day one. I knew that I would miss my wife coming home at around 7:30 am from her night shift at the retirement home.
I cruised the 3 kms down the quiet sideroad that I live on in the country, and then proceeded to turn onto the main road and entered the s-curves that go through a swamp. There, in the middle of the second curve was an EMS ambulance, two firetrucks, and most every volunteer fireman from the area, with a few guiding traffic.
To my left, and approximately 20 meters into the swamp, was my wife's Sport Trac on its side; completely and utterly demolished. I later found out that she had lost it on the dew-slick road and launched it into two barrel rolls through the swamp while bouncing off of two rather impressive poplars.
Gah!!
I pulled the emerge, jumped out of the car, and ran straight to the ambulance and opened the door. It's a small community, so most everyone knew who I was. Upon opening the door of the ambulance, I found my wife sitting there with a look of utter 'Irish pissed-off' on her face. "I'm OK, honey," she said, "but I f*cking wrecked my truck." I was speechless at first, but all I could say was, "Awesome! ... are you sure you're OK?' "Yup!"' was the chorus of replies from all of the smiling occupants in the ambulance.
Needless to say, it was a little late to phone-in to work, she appeared fine, and I know that she's as tough as nails, so I handed her the insurance client card, told her to call it in, and that I'd see her soon. I went to work. I walked into school, told the principal what happened, and her immediate response was, "What are you doing here? Go home!" I insisted on starting the day/year, but was told that I was going home at first nutrition break, or I was going to be dragged home by all of the female staff.
I stopped at the impound on the way home and S**ntzy, the owner, asked me how my first day at school was... smart-a$$! I went back and looked at the truck. The only salvagable exterior part was the driver's rear taillight housing. The box was crushed, the windshield had a punch-through by a stump on the passengers side, every panel was buckled or twisted, there was a pronounced indent from a tree on the front right nose, another on the rear driver passenger door, and the side curtains were hanging. I cleaned out the personnal effects, removed the St. Christopher medal from the visor and gave it a gentle kiss before putting it in my pocket. The medal had been given to me by my biological mother just before she passed away.
When I arrived home at around 1:00 pm, I found her sitting in the Adirondak chair, with a Jeigermeister in one hand, a Coors Light in the other, the Westies at her feet, and a grin on her face that you couldn't wipe off with a shovel if you tried. "I've had a few, sit your ass down and have a beer with me!" she ordered. I have been with this little black-haired blue-eyed Irish fireplug for thirty years, so I have learned when to obey. So I did... for several...
... and you couldn't wipe the smile off of my face either.
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P.S. She had chose this truck two months earlier. I had told her that it wasn't a safe truck and was very tail happy. She stomped her feet and held her breath until I caved.
We did just fine on the insurance. She had suggested another Sport Trac. I gave her the look. She looked away and ceased to discuss that option. After thirty years, some things do not need to be said.
I bought her a 2008 Toyota Tacoma SR5 TRD 4 door to replace it. It comes tomorrow.
She likes it, 'cause I told her she will.
... and we're both looking forward to the next thirty years.
Last Tuesday, September 7th, was the first day of school for the kiddies in our district, and being a school teacher, I was just as anxious and apprehensive as they were that morning.
I got up early, made a coffee, walked the Westies, showered, caught a little of Canada AM and walked out the door at 7:15. I left a little early 'cause I new that the roads would be extra busy with parents driving their kids to school on day one. I knew that I would miss my wife coming home at around 7:30 am from her night shift at the retirement home.
I cruised the 3 kms down the quiet sideroad that I live on in the country, and then proceeded to turn onto the main road and entered the s-curves that go through a swamp. There, in the middle of the second curve was an EMS ambulance, two firetrucks, and most every volunteer fireman from the area, with a few guiding traffic.
To my left, and approximately 20 meters into the swamp, was my wife's Sport Trac on its side; completely and utterly demolished. I later found out that she had lost it on the dew-slick road and launched it into two barrel rolls through the swamp while bouncing off of two rather impressive poplars.
Gah!!
I pulled the emerge, jumped out of the car, and ran straight to the ambulance and opened the door. It's a small community, so most everyone knew who I was. Upon opening the door of the ambulance, I found my wife sitting there with a look of utter 'Irish pissed-off' on her face. "I'm OK, honey," she said, "but I f*cking wrecked my truck." I was speechless at first, but all I could say was, "Awesome! ... are you sure you're OK?' "Yup!"' was the chorus of replies from all of the smiling occupants in the ambulance.
Needless to say, it was a little late to phone-in to work, she appeared fine, and I know that she's as tough as nails, so I handed her the insurance client card, told her to call it in, and that I'd see her soon. I went to work. I walked into school, told the principal what happened, and her immediate response was, "What are you doing here? Go home!" I insisted on starting the day/year, but was told that I was going home at first nutrition break, or I was going to be dragged home by all of the female staff.
I stopped at the impound on the way home and S**ntzy, the owner, asked me how my first day at school was... smart-a$$! I went back and looked at the truck. The only salvagable exterior part was the driver's rear taillight housing. The box was crushed, the windshield had a punch-through by a stump on the passengers side, every panel was buckled or twisted, there was a pronounced indent from a tree on the front right nose, another on the rear driver passenger door, and the side curtains were hanging. I cleaned out the personnal effects, removed the St. Christopher medal from the visor and gave it a gentle kiss before putting it in my pocket. The medal had been given to me by my biological mother just before she passed away.
When I arrived home at around 1:00 pm, I found her sitting in the Adirondak chair, with a Jeigermeister in one hand, a Coors Light in the other, the Westies at her feet, and a grin on her face that you couldn't wipe off with a shovel if you tried. "I've had a few, sit your ass down and have a beer with me!" she ordered. I have been with this little black-haired blue-eyed Irish fireplug for thirty years, so I have learned when to obey. So I did... for several...
... and you couldn't wipe the smile off of my face either.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
P.S. She had chose this truck two months earlier. I had told her that it wasn't a safe truck and was very tail happy. She stomped her feet and held her breath until I caved.
We did just fine on the insurance. She had suggested another Sport Trac. I gave her the look. She looked away and ceased to discuss that option. After thirty years, some things do not need to be said.
I bought her a 2008 Toyota Tacoma SR5 TRD 4 door to replace it. It comes tomorrow.
She likes it, 'cause I told her she will.
... and we're both looking forward to the next thirty years.