The Dreaded Phone Call

"Mom, I've been in a wreck," was how CaveMan started the phone call. He immediately followed it by telling me that he was OK, but the truck was not driveable. Once I remembered to breathe and swallowed my heart which had somehow jumped up into my throat, I remembered to ask him where he was at. He was on his way home for Christmas vacation from college. I had been excited all day just knowing he'd be home when I got there. The phone call was NOT what I had been expecting.

But CaveMan was fine ... and the other two people in the accident were fine. And while it was true that his truck wasn't driveable, it's only because the front bumper got pushed back just close enough to his tire that the wheel couldn't turn. We have good insurance, in case the other drivers don't.

My baby is home. And maybe the best gift he'll get this Christmas is not what he finds wrapped under the tree on Christmas morning, but rather what he learned tonight.

Deer + bumper = depleted checking account

HotShot and I were coming home on Saturday night from a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday at the farm when Bambi decided to commit suicide and used my front bumper to do it. I was distraught. I haven't been able to eat meat for 3 days. My oldest son, whom we'll call CaveMan, was thrilled at the thought of fresh venison. He was following in his truck about 10 miles behind me. I called him on his cell phone to tell him what happened and he was more concerned about getting the exact location of the carcass so he could recover it than he was about the welfare of his brother and me. Thanks, CaveMan. Don't forget I was in labor for 31 hours with you.

CaveMan is the hunter/fisher type. He's a great person -- I'm very proud of him. And even though we raise cattle and I know what happens to them eventually, I don't have to see them after they've been killed. But CaveMan is giddy with the thought of hunting and/or fishing for his food and then preparing it and eating it. Whereas I'm giddy at the thought of someone else obtaining my food and then preparing it for me to eat.

So, anyway ... part of my Christmas money will go towards repairing my front bumper. Yes, I have insurance. And it's very good insurance. But I'll still have to pay the deductible. Drats! There goes that big diamond ring I was hoping for under the tree.