February hates Shumates.
This is what I get for not blogging more promptly. Had I written on Saturday, I could have told you about the Boy Scout “Klondike” winter camp that I went on with my sons Friday night. But I put that off until Sunday.
And then Sunday, my daughter Sariah got hit by a car.
Relax, she’s fine. Let me tell the story, okay?
According to eyewitnesses, of which I was not one, she came out of the church and looked both ways before crossing the street to where I had parked to see if her little sister Emma had already come out to the car. Then she waited patiently to come back to the church side of the street, but somehow missed the Jeep coming toward her.
Fortunately, the Jeep was going very slowly. She collided with its bumper and was thrown to the pavement, but didn’t hit her head. A member of our ward who is also one of the local cops ran out and took charge, checking her eyes and mouth and getting her covered and identifying witnesses until the police in uniform showed up, and the ambulance. Michele rode the ambulance with her to the hospital, and I followed after with the other kids.
They checked her out and found no head or neck injuries. X-rays showed no break in either the right thigh or the right elbow, the two spots that hurt. They put some band-aids on the scuffs on her right hand, gave her some Motrin, and sent her home; she walked out of the ER limping a bit.
And that was that. When I left this morning, she was debating even telling the other kids at school, because who would believe her? Her only real bruise is high enough on her thigh that she couldn’t show it off without dropping trou.
I think I’m going to make her a T-shirt on CafePress: “I Got Hit By a Car, and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt.”
Oh, and the explanation for the title? Last February, Alex broke his ankle. The February before, I had a stroke. We had been jokingly wondering what calamity would come along to soak up our tax return this year. This didn’t really qualify, though; $100 ER copay, which will be covered by the driver’s insurance. You’ll have to try harder than that, February! (He said, courting disaster.)
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