The Tale Of The Escalade

In continuation…

The girl has said to me several times that we should get a Ford Escalade. I have no idea from where she is coming from, nor do I know what an Escalade is – until I was hit by one last Saturday.

I drive a mom mini-van. There was a time when I loved the mini-van but I admit now; it’s a little uncool. But – there’s no car payments on it and even with the dog hair, I will drive it as long as it lasts.

That may be until last Saturday. A 17 year old boy drove out of a parking lot and hit me as I was going to pick up the boy from practice. Everyone says this and I’ll say it too – it happened so fast.

When I realized what happened, I got out of the car to confront the person who hit me and was met by a cute, shy, and very nervous boy with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed. I was completely deflated. I asked him if he was alright and when he said yes, I came back with, “You have to look both ways before you pull out.”

I can’t help it – I’m a mom.

We both pulled back into the parking lot and his mom arrived – and the husband arrived – and then the police arrived and we had a nice party right then and there. The husband went to pick up the boy and his friend, LCAT Danny, for me. The boys were both fascinated with the accident and with the police.

My car looked like the above, his car had a slight dent in the fender.

The girl said, “Now can we get an Escalade?”

His mom asked for mercy – i.e. to not go through our insurance companies. I have a 17 year old boy too – I promised her I would try. We spent all day yesterday on the phone with the insurance companies and we decided that it just wasn’t prudent. And this poor boy – he was sent to the library by his mom to get a book and now his Christmas may not be so merry.

I feel so badly and I was in a very, very disconcerted (i.e. bad) mood all day yesterday. After speaking countless times with my insurance company, his insurance company, the auto body shop, and the rental car people, I edged closer and closer to insanity. The lady at the checkout line at Walmart said, “You look really tired. Maybe you should stop at Starbucks on the way home, it’s right up the street.”

Then she turned to the husband and said, “Take care of her.”

I’m not sure if I’m flattered.

We’ll see what happens. Still waiting on the powers that be to tell us something about our sad mini-van. And I’ll pray for that boy whose insurance rates now are guaranteed to be more than his college tuition.

p.s. The husband just texted me and said that the Escalade was built by Cadillac not Ford. It’s obvious I don’t know my cars and well – I don’t care.