It was a Sunday…
A birthday party.
SOOOOOO many birthday parties.
It is pandemonium
We leave and the girls are amp’d up on fuchsia Hello Kitty frosting.
Someone has hit my car…
“Landon get out of the road”
“Tenny NOOOO – don’t hit your sister”
They scratched the bumper.
“Landon….I said stop jumping in the puddles”
It was white, the bumper…
and there are black streaks on it now.
And double DAMNIT…
It’s got a divot there…
about the size of an orange (a big navel one, not a tangelo)
I am pissed for sure.
Who does that and then drives off?
Non-emergency police I am calling…
Someone is going to hear about this.
“Hello … how can we help you?”
“Oh Yes, I am here”
“What is your trouble?”
“Oh I was going to report a hit and run…
In the parking lot of Monkeytown”
“Are you injured ma’am?”
“Where can we send the officers?”
“Ma’am? Are you there?”
“yes I am here… but it’s ok”
“Ma’am… I am dispatching”
“No… you know we are good…
don’t worry about that…
I don’t think its necessary.”
“Ma’am? excuse me”
I am really so sorry…
is not my car.”
OH MY GOD!!!
I can just hear her rolling her eyes.
I mean she could have at least said Goodbye.
It was the SAME CAR….
DAMNIT – how many times can I make an ass out of myself?
Don’t answer that.