Duncan was a wee bit late for school today; you see, my husband normally comes home from work between 8:30-8:45am in our only car, and then I take Duncan to school. Today, however, my phone rang at about 8:35. My husband wanted to know if I could look up our auto insurance policy number.
Siiiiiiiggggghhhhhhh. Not what a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning before she's had her coffee. But I don't complain. Because you see, this time - yes, THIS time - he was hit by someone who (a) stopped and (b) has insurance!
Chalk it up to bad karma I guess. Perhaps in a prior life my husband was a menace to society behind the wheel, because he seems to attract this sort of thing. He's a good driver. We keep our insurance up. He checks over his shoulder before changing lanes, uses turn signals properly and sets the handbrake when parking on an incline and washes his hands after using the bathroom. But check this out -
- in 1999, we got up one morning to find that someone had smashed into the side of our car, breaking the side mirror and messing up the driver's side door. No note, no person. The car door never opened fully again.
- in 2001, we got up one morning and found that someone had smashed into the rear of our car, taking out the taillight and crunching up the bumper. Different car. No note, no person.
- in 2002, my husband was sitting at a red light when someone rear-ended him, then backed up a bit, and sped off around him. Nobody caught the license plate number.
- in 2005, he was driving down a narrow street when someone opened his car door into traffic JUST as my husband was passing him. Minimal damage to the guy's car, but our passenger side was screwed up so badly that the door was stuck shut. A police report was involved this time, and exchange of information went smoothly. But the guy apparently gave us a hotel address and false insurance information. I climbed over the driver's side to the passenger seat every time we went somewhere for the duration of our ownership of that car.
But our luck must be changing (hope!). My husband pulled over the side of the road, grumbling, and cynically watched for the other driver to take off. Instead, she pulled over behind him, exited her car apologizing profusely, and exchanged information with him. Understandably, they went ahead and made insurance calls at the scene this time. Her insurance, Progressive, was prompt and helpful, and we have an appointment to drop off our car with them and pick up a rental tomorrow while they fix the decimated bumper and taillight at no charge to us. The driver herself, who was sweet as pie, called to follow up with us to make sure everything was taken care of.
As for Duncan? Well, he got to make his lazy out-of-shape mom finally take the bicycles out after the long winter and bike to school with him; despite the short notice, he was only a few minutes late. You know, he's probably thinking Daddy should be late more often...
Siiiiiiiggggghhhhhhh. Not what a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning before she's had her coffee. But I don't complain. Because you see, this time - yes, THIS time - he was hit by someone who (a) stopped and (b) has insurance!
Chalk it up to bad karma I guess. Perhaps in a prior life my husband was a menace to society behind the wheel, because he seems to attract this sort of thing. He's a good driver. We keep our insurance up. He checks over his shoulder before changing lanes, uses turn signals properly and sets the handbrake when parking on an incline and washes his hands after using the bathroom. But check this out -
- in 1999, we got up one morning to find that someone had smashed into the side of our car, breaking the side mirror and messing up the driver's side door. No note, no person. The car door never opened fully again.
- in 2001, we got up one morning and found that someone had smashed into the rear of our car, taking out the taillight and crunching up the bumper. Different car. No note, no person.
- in 2002, my husband was sitting at a red light when someone rear-ended him, then backed up a bit, and sped off around him. Nobody caught the license plate number.
- in 2005, he was driving down a narrow street when someone opened his car door into traffic JUST as my husband was passing him. Minimal damage to the guy's car, but our passenger side was screwed up so badly that the door was stuck shut. A police report was involved this time, and exchange of information went smoothly. But the guy apparently gave us a hotel address and false insurance information. I climbed over the driver's side to the passenger seat every time we went somewhere for the duration of our ownership of that car.
But our luck must be changing (hope!). My husband pulled over the side of the road, grumbling, and cynically watched for the other driver to take off. Instead, she pulled over behind him, exited her car apologizing profusely, and exchanged information with him. Understandably, they went ahead and made insurance calls at the scene this time. Her insurance, Progressive, was prompt and helpful, and we have an appointment to drop off our car with them and pick up a rental tomorrow while they fix the decimated bumper and taillight at no charge to us. The driver herself, who was sweet as pie, called to follow up with us to make sure everything was taken care of.
As for Duncan? Well, he got to make his lazy out-of-shape mom finally take the bicycles out after the long winter and bike to school with him; despite the short notice, he was only a few minutes late. You know, he's probably thinking Daddy should be late more often...
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