"Bubba Shot the Jukebox"

Really, my mom hit my car.

The short version with the happy ending? She backed up into it one night. There's a ding on her van, but my Estelle mostly fared the incident okey-dokey.

The longer version with a realistic ending? We were leaving for my sister's. I was trying to tell her about a song lyric I like ("Reckless discharge with a gun, that's what the officer's a-claiming, Bubba hollered out, 'Reckless, hell! I hit just where I was aimin'!'"), but she was impatient with my father for being late. He was in the car in front of us, but rather than waiting for him to pull out, like a normal person, she threw the van in reverse and slammed on the gas.

..........
Boing!!
.........

I was very calm. I didn't say a word; I just unhooked my seat belt and got out to look at what she'd done. The extent of the damage to my car is a bent license plate. I now have a C instead of a license plate. But it's legible, and it absorbed the impact (fortunately the bumper of her van is high enough not to hit my bumper, and the license plate stick out about half an inch). She has a nick, but, well, to tell the truth I'm not feeling too sorry for her.

I was going to be nice about the whole thing - pretend that it hadn't happened even though I was not pleased at all. After all, it's harmless; nothing got really hurt, and it's silly to get upset over something that's not worth fixing. (But damn it! Estelle got her first boo-boo, and I didn't even do anything! Although ... that could be a good omen.)

But when we got to my sister's, she had to confess all to my dad. *grins and shakes head* I get my storytelling genes from her. We had music practice that night, and she about told everyone there what she'd done. I figure that lets me loose from my "I'll be nice" pact.

So you get the benefit of my (new found) wisdom: don't try to sing "Bubba Shot the Jukebox" to your mother when she's driving and your car is behind her!