Last November I was returning from the gym to pick my son up at school. It was raining (as it is want to do in Western Canada) and my yoga shoes were wet on the bottom. I pulled up in front of the school, as I had done a hundred times before, I put my foot on the brake and - in a Fellini-esque moment, my wet foot slipped off the brake onto the gas and my car lurched forward.
I tried to avoid a collision but in the blink of an eye - BAM!! I rear-ended the wealthiest family in my son's school, in their BRAND NEW Mercedes SUV - and it was parked. Imagine my shock, my dismay, my FEAR. MY FIRST ACCIDENT!!!!!!!!! And it was ALL MY FAULT. There was no denying it, no excuses, no way out.
Luckily, I have the world's most understanding husband. "That is why they call them accidents, sweetheart." Little consolation, some, but little. Of course, the insurance company took care of everything. Unfortunately, MY car was not insured for damages, but they would have their $2000 plastic bumper replaced post haste. I am still driving around in a car that has what looks like a black eye. I want the reminder of my altercation. When I feel I have suffered sufficiently I will go ahead and plunk down the $1200 it will take to get it repaired. It's a SAAB, need I say more?
That could have been an entire summer's worth of cute shoes and skimpy dresses. At least we all walked away without a scratch. (that is, physically, I still have brutal flashbacks!)