Rental Woes...

After 900 or so hours working with the insurance company of the guy who hit me, they finally resolved to fix my vehicle and provide a rental car.

I dropped my car off at the collision center and walked to the rental car agency.  47 pages of paperwork later (glad to see this isn't a hassle at all....), they escorted me to the rental car.

"Here you go!" he said, turning to hand me my keys.

I took a slow look hood to tailpipe over the horrifically ugly car and gave the guy a blank stare.

"Sassy!" he said.

"By your description of 'sassy', I'm guessing this isn't the first time you've had to defend the looks of this beast?"

"It's a holiday weekend in one of the most desirable vacation cities in the US."

I glared.

Not only is it a Nissan (ugliest cars ever created) it's a Versa, which rates mere millimeters behind the Juke,... in electric blue...hatchback.  Every time I rev the engine and the sun shines on that sparkly blue paint, I sink a little lower and push my sunglasses a little higher.

I miss my car.

My Husband is Cheating...

The last week has been rough.  Baby Cash has a cold, is cutting three teeth - two of them molars, has a horrible skin rash, and has an ear infection.  While we do our best to keep him comfortable, he still cries a lot and is up most of the night.

There is no rest in this house.

Or that's what I thought.

Chris is like most men.  He takes his time in the restroom.  I've become accustomed to 5, 10 minutes tops, especially if he has a handyman magazine, but his trips this week have seemed a bit longer.

I thought it was me.  When you are miserable, everything seems to take longer.  But then I  saw him slipping his cell phone into his pocket on the way down the hall.  "Got to go take care of business!" he said as the bathroom door shut and the lock clicked.

5  minutes ticked by.

10.

15.

Cash moaned as I placed a cool towel on his back.

"Are you OK?" I yelled to the door.

"Huh? Oh. Yup." he said.

Suspicious, I picked up my phone, clicked open a page then yelled, "ARE YOU UPDATING YOUR FACEBOOK STATUS!!!???!!"

Silence.

I imagined him laying in the empty tub, inflatable pillow under his head as he set a new record on Angry Birds and 'liked' photos of far away places.

I paused and remembered, poor guy works two jobs then comes home to help with a sick kid.  He deserves a break now and then.

So I'll keep my mouth shut... but all bets are off if he gets more stars than me on the new Angry Birds Seasons - Back to School Edition.

Panel of Crazy...

Chris and I had our meeting with the attorney to put together our trust.  I thought it would be a simple process - placing our assets into a bucket.

Hold on just a sec.

Sorry.  I had to contain my laughter at the word 'asset'.

As it turns out, trusts involve more than property disbursement.  You have to set up executors, trustees, a springing power of attorney, etc.  It would take too long to explain why, but you have to choose a panel of three people to determine your mental competency.

"Obviously Chris would be on the panel..." the attorney said while writing on his yellow legal pad, "I need two more names.  Would you like to chose members of your family?" he asked.

"My family would declare me incompetent before the ink on the trust dried."

"You husband's family?"

Chris and I started laughing... hysterically.

"Oooook.  We'll come back to that" he said while making deep scratch marks across the paper.  "Who would you like to make your medical decisions in the event you become incapacitated?  This is literally the person who chooses to pull the plug."

I looked at Chris, a grin spreading across his face, "Well, Chris gets a million if I die so he'd be a little too motivated.  My sister is really frugal.  She'd pull the plug to save electricity.  Hmmm.  I guess I'll list my brother.  He's indifferent and that's as close to liking me as they come."

"In the event of a catastrophic loss, meaning, you, Chris, and baby boy die at the same time, who would you like to inherit your life insurance policies and retirement accounts?" he asked.

"We have 19 people in our immediate families.  No matter who we chose, someone will be mad.  Can we just make them all play a game of rock paper scissors?" I asked.

"Best three out of five?"  He said writing down the directive.

"Fantastic."

Overall, the meeting went well - though I am slightly concerned about some of my choices.  If I end up in a mental institution or... dead... and Chris buys a new truck, I picked the wrong people.

Oops.

Can You Prove It?

I called the insurance company of the truck who hit me.  The 'gentleman' asked me to identify the make and model of the vehicle.

"It was a Ford F-150, navy blue, with a construction rack" I answered.

"Did you write down the plate number?"

"No"

"Neither you nor the other driver involved in the accident wrote the plate.  You can't prove my insured hit you"

I counted to ten... very slowly... trying to get my temper under control.

"Well sir.  I didn't have to write the plate number down.  I took a close up photo of the plate...and photos of the front and back of each vehicle...and of the accident site... and a photo OF YOUR INSURED."

Silence.

"One of our adjusters will be contacting you before the end of the day" he said and hung up quickly.

Yeah.  I thought so.

WHAM!!

I was sitting at a red light last night and was dialing Chris to tell him I was on my way home when...

WHAM!

A car crashed into the back of mine, nosing me into the swish of traffic crossing the intersection.  Horns blared as they swerved around my hood, not one striking me.

I sat, hands shaking, when I heard, "Hello?  Hello?  Babe?" from the speaker on my cell phone.

"I just got into a car accident!  I'll call you back" I said and clicked the 'End' button.

A guy driving a big 4 door work truck had got his boot stuck under the brake pedal and couldn't stop.  He smashed into the car behind me and that car crashed into me.

We pulled off the road, thankful everyone was alright.  I walked around my car, carefully assessing the damage.  "FUDGE!"  I yelled angrily staring at my bumper.

The truck driver said, "I'm really sorry.  It's nothing to get upset about.  It can be fixed." while pushing at the metal of my car as if it could be straightened like a piece of crumpled paper.

"Noooooooo!" I whined.  "I'm thinking of selling my car and it would have been great if you would have just totaled it.  Now I have to go through all the effort of repairing it when getting a check would have been easier.  Ugh.  I have to fix it AND disclose it was in an accident.  Do you think you could try again?  Back up that behemoth and smack the trunk but a little harder this time?"

He smiled thinking I was being sarcastic.

I wasn't.

I arrived home, back, neck and shoulders sore from the hit.  I told Chris what happened and rather than look pleased that no one was hurt and the accident wasn't my fault, he looked deflated.

"What?" I said.

"Well.  Since you always yell at me when I use the cell phone while driving because 'it's dangerous', I was kinda hoping the accident was your fault and that it was caused by your use of the cell phone.  It would have been great karmatic justice."

He is terribly lucky I was too sore to punch him.

Hiding my 'Drug Problem'...

Chris and I enrolled in a class at church for parents of young children.  At the start of the first class, I was paired with two other couples while Chris went to get baby boy from the nursery class.  We chatted, getting to know one another when one of the dads asked, "Where did you guys deliver?"  I pointed my open hand to the other couple and said, "Go ahead, you go first."

The mother smiled and named a women's center known for being adamantly against the use of medical drugs during delivery and instead advocates breathing exercises to reduce stress and pain.

"Us too! Our doula was amazing!  It was such a serene experience!" the husband said (easy for him to say - last I checked, dudes aren't the ones pushing).

They all nodded in agreement, shedding tears and sniffling at the memories of their babies entering the world just as God intended.  They grew silent, then stared at me waiting for me to share my 'amazing natural' childbirth story.

I was guessing it wouldn't be an appropriate time to share that I ordered my epidural 3 months in advance...

I didn't want to lie in God's house so I hurriedly turned to look at the door, "My goodness!  Where is my husband!?  He went to grab our son but I can't imagine what's taking so long" I said smiling.

I think they are on to me.