My kids went to play at a neighbor’s house yesterday. They live two houses down from us. Just a short scooter ride from our door to theirs. They made it there just fine. It was the coming home that presented a problem.
I was in the back yard playing with the puppies when I heard someone come running into the house and up the stairs. I went in to see what was up. Another neighbor was standing in the foyer.
“I just hit your daughter with my car” He said.
“Oh my God!” I shrieked and ran out the front door toward the street.
“No, No” He said. “She’s in there”
I ran back into the kitchen. My daughter was getting a Band-Aid out of the kitchen cabinet. I grabbed her and started ripping off her clothes looking for gaping wounds and signs of internal bleeding. She didn’t have any. Unless you count the small scrape on the palm of her hand.
The scene was a little hectic as I rapid fired question after question at my daughter. Does this hurt? How about this? How did you land? Where were you when the car hit you? Can you feel your feet? The fact that she had gotten up, rode her scooter home, and was in the process of getting a Sponge Bob Band-Aid when I got to her hadn’t sunk in yet.
I started to calm down a little then I noticed my over-weight middle age neighbor looked a little pale. I started to mentally go over the symptoms of a heart attack. Now I was worried about internal bleeding and a heart attack. I noticed my husband was also in the kitchen.
“Is there any damage to the car?” I asked. My neighbor looked at me like I was crazy.
My husband knew this meant go out inspect the car and determine the location and extent of damage. That way I can mentally recreate the collision, calculate the velocity of the impact, and determine if anyone is going to die before I can have them medivac-ed to the nearest trauma center. It happened before after a sledding accident. “Did she knock the bark off the tree?!”
It turns out she took a wide left turn out of the driveway and the car took a wide right turn onto the road. She ran into the side of the car and fell sideways, landing on her rear end, into the ditch. It could have been much worse.
Thankfully, nothing was broken, there were no internal injuries or brain damage and no one had a heart attack. I may have burst a few blood vessels crying after she was safely in bed. I also can’t seem to let her out of my sight.
This isn’t going to do anything worthwhile for my over-protective tendencies. Does anyone know where I can buy some of those big orange cones and caution tape? I need to set up a 50-yard scooter zone from my front door to the house two doors down. Also some bubble wrap. I definitely need bubble wrap.
April 3rd, 2007 at 3:59 pm
Holy crap! I’m glad she’s alright. You should probably kill the neighbor, though, just to be safe; can’t let him think he can get away with that sort of stuff.
April 4th, 2007 at 10:20 am
I got hit by a car when I was a kid. Actually my bike was hit and I was on it. It gave me pretty nasty scar on my hip that is still there to this day.
I was riding my bike despite my father telling me that I couldn’t. When I called him to tell him what happened he didn’t believe me, thinking I was making up a story to stay out of trouble.
Needless to say he felt bad when I walked my bike home covered in roadrash.
April 4th, 2007 at 12:42 pm
Rattling the Kettle, You scare me :) Up until then, he would have been voted least likely to run over a kid. He is a slow cautious driver. I felt bad for him. He was very upset.
Whit, Yow! I bet your Dad still feels bad about that. Getting hit by a car would be a great excuse to get out of trouble though. Heck, it was a good excuse for my daughter to have cheesesticks and chocolate cake for dinner. “You know you should be able to have whatever you want for dinner if you get hit by a car” she told me.