In my book, I'd call that a win.....or another "first"

As the mother of a 16 year old, I can confidently say that we have seen many "firsts."

The first smile (and no, it wasn't gas!).  The first bite of "real" food.  The first tooth.  The first step.  The first haircut.  The first girlfriend.

You know, all the biggies.

Today?  Today we experienced another "first."

But let me start from the beginning....

I was merrily on my way to work.  Taking the long way - because, really, I wasn't in a rush to get there.

As I was approaching my turn, the phone rings.  I glance at the phone - because, seriously, who could be calling me at 7:45 am?!

It was Man-Child.  I figured there must have been an accident on his usual drive to school and he was calling to find an alternate route; as this has been an issue in the past.  Despite being driven around these roads for most of his life he hasn't figured out the connections yet.  But that's okay.  After 13 (or is it 15?) years, I haven't either.  Which may explain why I wander around in circles quite often - which is, quite possibly, a post for another day.

"Hey sweetie!  What's up?" I chirped.  His response stopped my heart.

"Mom?  I hit some guy's car."

I immediately found a place to pull over because I really needed to concentrate.

I asked him if he was okay.  He was.  Obviously.  Otherwise he wouldn't have been the one calling me.  My mind immediately flew to the fact that he travels the interstate to school EVERY SINGLE DAY!  OMG!  Was he calling me from there?  Or the major road?  WHERE IN THE HELL WAS HE?

As I am busily picturing twisted metal, rising smoke and anguish all around; he informs me that he is at "the" diner (a place he frequents so often that the waitresses set the table and bring his glass of tea when they see him pull into the lot before he even walks in the door) and has hit a car in the parking lot.

Although this information soothes my mind and heart just a bit - I was still concerned.  So, of course, I immediately turned the car around and headed toward him.  My boy; my heart.  Because, despite all the information I had - it wasn't enough.  I HAD to see him.  To make sure he was okay - not just bodily - but in spirit.

It goes without saying that, of course, I hit every red light imaginable and was behind the most dawdle-y drivers EVER.

And, of course, I called his father (whom I cursed long and loud when he didn't answer the phone on my first two tries), to come join us at the scene of the accident.

Man-Child informed me later that he was concerned that *I* was going to have an accident the way I whipped into that parking lot.  What can I say?  At that point, I was physically ill and needed to get to him.

Luckily, he hit the biggest, sturdiest truck in the lot.  Unfortunately (maybe), it was a company vehicle.

It's good that he hit this particular truck in that there was very minimal damage to the truck (virtually invisible) since it was so big and sturdy and bad because, since it's a company vehicle, a police report had to be prepared.

Luckily, I arrived before the police.  You all would be so proud.  I remained calm throughout everything.  When the police arrived, I thought for sure Man-Child was going to faint.  I've never really witnessed color draining from one's face until today.  You know why "they" say that all the time?  Because it's true.  The color literally drained from his face - from the top down.

Fortunately, both the man he hit and the officer were both very kind and understanding.

The sun had blinded him *just so* as he was trying to park the car; apparently the real problem began after he "kissed" the bumper and proceeded to back up - which is exactly what I would have done.  The nice man, the police officer, and I (and eventually, his father) all informed him that it could happen to anyone - that's why they call them "accidents."  I can totally attest to that as there were several points this morning on my drive in and my drive back to him where I couldn't see (damn time change!).

We are hoping that the company will let us pay for the (minimal) damage and not go through insurance.  Our insurance bill has doubled since adding Man-Child as a driver and (in the words of the nice policeman) the insurance company would "eat us alive" if this was on the books.

Unfortunately, the damage to Man-Child's car wasn't as minimal....

You can't really see how ripped it is here-this just gives you an idea

But.....the car is drivable.  And everyone is okay.

In my book - I call that a "win."

As an aside, I am so proud of this boy of mine.  The nice man made a point of telling us several times what a nice, polite young man we had.  He informed us that he felt so very sorry for Man-Child when he walked into the diner and told him that he'd hit his truck.  The nice man told us that Man-Child was so sad and upset.  And that he was impressed with the way Man-Child "manned" up to the experience when he could have so easily backed up and parked somewhere else without him (the nice man) ever knowing that he'd been hit.  It's moments like that when you think that maybe, just maybe, you are doing something right.