I was picking up Dr. Smooth from a friend’s house, and as I stood talking with the friend’s mom in the driveway, Dr. Smooth noticed a dent and a hole in the front bumper of my car.
“Mom! Someone hit your car!” he exclaimed.
“What?!?” And sure enough, someone had indeed bashed the front bumper of my car. It wasn’t very big, and it wasn’t very noticeable. But someone had hit my car. Hard enough to put a hole in the bumper with a small dent beside it.
“What?!” I asked again, racking my brain to figure out where and when this could have possibly happened.
“Looks like someone backed into you,” said Friend’s Mom.
“Or you ran into something,” offered Dr. Smooth.
“No, I think I would know if I ran into something,” I said confidently, as I pondered in my head whether or not I might have run into something. I tried to remember if there was any time that maybe I might have. I couldn’t think of any.
“It really looks like someone backed into you the way that hole is pushed in,” said Friend’s Mom.
“How would someone back into me??? Where???” I asked, a bit confused and slightly aggravated that someone had done something to me and I didn’t know about it.
“Probably in a parking lot,” she offered.
Now I was a bit angry. I suddenly had a lot of questions I wanted to ask society. How could someone just back into my car, and obviously from the HOLE IN MY BUMPER they would have KNOWN that they backed into my car, and then just drive away? I don’t get that. How can you HIT someone’s car and just drive away? I mean, what kind of idiot would just knock a hole in someone’s bumper and not even leave a note to say “My bad!” Society is whacked, people! That’s not cool. I suddenly felt victimized.
And then Dr. Smooth said, “I can’t wait to see John’s face when you tell him. He’s going to be so mad.”
Oh, great. Now on top of my own issues with this situation, I have to consider my husband’s inevitable reaction. My Knight is slightly OCD about door dings and parking lots. He will park 47 miles from the door at the very back of the lot to get an end spot next to a tree or something to limit the car’s vulnerability. He will get completely out of line and totally freak out the parking lot attendants at theme parks in order to park the car by itself or at the end of a row. And he is like a CSI detective when we get back to the car inspecting it for dings.
So I was NOT looking forward to heading home to share with him that not only had I obviously parked near other cars (horrors!), but one of them had gone beyond a door ding and left a gaping hole in my front bumper. Oh yeah, and let’s not forget that I didn’t even notice this had happened. He was going to be thrilled beyond belief.
I waited until we were about halfway through dinner. I waited until he was no longer starving, a bit satiated, but not full and miserable. I waited until he had just put a forkful in his mouth and was in a happy place filled with shrimp scampi. And then I casually tossed out, “Somebody hit my car and left a hole in the front bumper.” And then I casually took a bite of scampi. You know, like I had just said, “Pass the peas” or “It rained today.”
His eyes widened, and he looked back and forth between Dr. Smooth and me as he chewed his shrimp.
Dr. Smooth stoked the fire with, “Yeah, she didn’t even know about it. I told her she probably hit something and didn’t notice.” (Thank you Dr. Smooth!)
“No, Kim and I think that someone backed into me. Someone hit me,” I insisted.
Dr. Smooth’s ability to assist in this situation was never-ending. “I told her I couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when she told you.” My child has such a twisted sense of what is entertaining.
“Really?” is all My Knight said. He had finished chewing his shrimp, and I thought for a moment he was speechless as he considered this news.
But then he looked at Dr. Smooth with this weird little smirk on his face and said, “Oh yeah? Well, you might want to watch the look on your mother’s face right now.”
And My Knight looked at me with a sadistic little grin and said calmly, “I hit your car.”
“I backed into your car.”
………………………………..That’s what I thought he said.
“You backed into my car????” I asked as Dr. Smooth burst into laughter.
“Yeah. I backed into with the van and the trailer hitch knocked a hole in it.” He was so calm when he said it, too. Like he was just mentioning that he got a grass stain on his jeans and needed me to use spot remover before putting them in the wash.
“WAIT.” My brain was slowly catching up. “WAIT A MINUTE. YOOOUUUUUU hit my car????”
Now they were both laughing. I was not laughing.
“I don’t know. One day last week, I think? I’m surprised you noticed it. I figured it would take a lot longer.” (I didn’t bother to mention that technically I didn’t notice it….Dr. Smooth did. Unimportant detail at that moment.)
“WAIT A MINUTE.” I said again. “You hit my car??? And you didn’t even tell me????”
Turns out my car was behind his company van on the street in front of the house,
and for reasons I still don’t fully understand, the man could not see a BRIGHT RED car behind him, and he hit my freakin’ car. And did not even tell me.
Somehow they both found this humorous. I still have not found it humorous. But at least I got one of those society questions from above answered. I now know what kind of
idiot um, person, would hit a car and not even leave a note. Or mention it over dinner, breakfast, etc. And then he had the audacity to say, “Well, it’s something you can blog about.”
It’s a good thing I love that man so much.