Hit -n- Dumb

Here’s the chorus of the song I sang to Sarah last night:

Mama got run over by Dada
Coming off the bus the other day.
Mama said, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Dada said, “I didn’t see you get in the way.”

Yes, my husband ran into me in his van as I was crossing the street to get into said van. He says he didn’t see me. How do you miss a ginormous woman in a parka, who you just waved at, walking in front of your van?

His excuse, besides, “I didn’t see you” was that he was moving the van to make it easier for me to get into it. I guess if I wound up under the tires, it would have been easier for me to get in the van. I would have been flatter.

I have a nice bruise on my thigh and I walk like House, sans the cane.

The kids always ask me what I would do if I got hit by a car. I’ve told them I would probably kick the headlights out of the offending vehicle. I didn’t do that yesterday, because I’d have to come up with the money to replace the headlight.