In which, I begin beating my head against a wall

My son, the same son who scored 100% on his driving test, was in a car accident this weekend. It was his fault. I hate to use the word accident because that makes it sound like there were screeching tires, broken glass, and twisted metal. It wasn’t like that. He just very slowly backed into the car behind him. Trouble is, that car was a 2007 Lexus.

The man in the Lexus apparently didn’t understand you’re not supposed to call 911 for a fender bender, and immediately called the cops. Paul was understandably upset. When the police arrived they instructed him to move the truck his was driving into the parking lot of a nearby Starbucks. While trying to park the truck Paul accidentally hit another car. Another 2007 Lexus. (Yeah, I know!)

I was in Ikea in Burbank when Paul called. If you’ve never been to Ikea before, and I had not, it’s a lot like going to Disneyland on “Two for one, kids get in free day.” It’s a mad house. I tired to comfort Paul as best I could from 100 miles away while surrounded with screaming babies.

Yesterday I spent the entire day on the phone with my insurance. It turns out that Paul is only covered when he is driving my car, not his dad’s truck. Unbeknownst to me and Paul’s dad, the insurance follows the driver not the car. He would have never been driving that truck if we had known. Now we have to pay for every thing. Repairs for two Lexus.

Don’t be surprised if I’m not very funny for awhile.