And.... crunch

So.
LovelyGirl has a weekend job in a very, very cool resale shop here in town. She usually only works on Sundays, and, as of yesterday, had decided that she should leave her job to make sure that her academics are flawless (we've had some disruption in her hitherto perfect grade reporting) and so that she could hang out with us when we're not doing things like yard work.

She was actually pretty sad about leaving her job. She loves her work and loves what she gets to do. (Sound familiar? Yeah.) So, she talked to her manager and turned in her notice yesterday.

A very emotional day.

At 5, when she got off, she texted to let me know she was on her way home. This is a requirement of her driving for awhile longer. It allows me to know that a. LovelyGirl has arrived safely and b. when I can expect her to arrive safely at the house.

Unfortunately, after that, I went out in the garage to help OldMan with a couple of things. It didn't even occur to me to bring my phone. It was about ten minutes later that I just HAPPENED to come back in to grab something and my phone was ringing.

I'll give my wonderful readers two guesses who was on the phone and what had happened...

Yeah.
LovelyGirl.
Wreck.

I did what any self-respecting mom would do.

I panicked.

A. Lot.

Luckily, the accident happened about two minutes from the house, so I jumped in my car (I told OldMan what happened while sprinting through the garage.) and ran every stop sign and light between here and there.

*A note here. I passed, no shit, five police officers. While I appreciate the fact that they didn't bother to even look twice at me hauling ass up the road and blatantly ignoring any and all traffic indicators, can someone please explain to me why, when I called emergency services, I was told that unless anyone was hurt or the vehicles were not drive-able, the police were not able to come.

Whatever.

I got to the parking lot where she was and jumped out. I'd been on the phone with her the entire trip over, and knew she was okay, but it was like a movie scene where someone shows up and does the entire 'grab-the-shoulders-and-check-them-thoroughly-for-injuries'. She was shaky, but otherwise okay. I told her to call her dad and let him know before he showed up and started punching people.

I really don't want to go into all the details, but the other person involved was okay, and I'm fairly certain what happened was this:

LovelyGirl has to drive a fairly busy road to get home. She's done it ten million times, so I'm comfortable saying she knows how to handle herself there. She pulled out into the first lane, like she's supposed to, and this guy simultaneously changed lanes into her. There is a substantial dent in the passenger back door of his 95 Corrolla, but I also noticed that the entire passenger front end was fuckered pretty well, too. Upon further inspection, I noticed that it was all rusty and was clearly an old dent. This fool, who spoke limited english, was trying to tell me she had caused all of the damage to his car.

To make a long story short, I took lots of pictures of the dents on his car and the ones on LovelyGirl's, made a copy of his insurance and sent LG on her way home. After he left, I drove around the area where the accident happened and made sure there weren't any parts of either vehicle. There weren't.

I got home, called our insurance company and was told that a.because OldMan and I had spotless driving records, our deductible was very small and b. because of the type of insurance we had, our premiums would not go up. Considering how expensive having a teen driver is, I almost cried at that news, I was so relieved.  I think it was that PLUS the fact that LovelyGirl was okay and that I'd been so terrified that really made me sob.

Unfortunately, this week, we were going to allow her to have her car back - mainly because I'm going to be swamped getting ready for OldMan's parents to come in this weekend, cooking for multiple dinners and all of that other miserable holiday crap.

Not happening now. Now, the poor, poor car of LovelyGirl will have to spend a week in the body shop to feel better. However, it knows the people there.

They treated her when tree fell on her last winter when we had a blizzard.

Good folks.

I have to go and clean things and meditate on why I had a child.

Be good.

I'm thankful that LovelyGirl's first accident was minor and that she's okay.

And that OldMan pays big scrilla for good insurance.

And that I'd taken two xanax yesterday, because who KNOWS what I'd have been like otherwise.