Death and Destruction

Hi! Over last weekend I made a child cry so hard she sweat through her adorable onesie, killed two defenseless fish, and managed to get the front end of Monster destroyed.

Let's discuss this in order, shall we? Our friends have the cutest little baby girl. But she is tricky. She cries. A LOT. Soooo...she's cute, but a screamer. She's also recently started getting even more worked up when strangers hold her - stranger danger, baby! Her parents have decided that she should be held by MORE people to make her LESS scared. And that's where I come in. I don't mind holding a screaming baby. At all. Even when her face gets bright red and her little fists are clenched and she pulls up her legs with all her might. But what I do object to is holding the screaming child so that she sweats through her little outfit. Poor baby.

(This screaming baby is in no way responsible for BB's adamant no baby stance, although her presence in our lives is not helping the situation...)

This same lovely couple who let me torture their child with my very arms also gave me two fish to care for. I did everything right - moved the fish in a bag so they wouldn't get stressed out, fixed the water with the anti-chemical, anti-bad stuff drops at room temperature, introduced them to the new water gradually, but the fish were dead within a couple of hours of the move to the new tank. I was quite put out with these fish for dying on me.

(The presence of dead fish is directly responsible for BB's stance that we need to get fish. I think he saw my sad face and knew that it was either fish, a dog, or a pig, and fish are the easiest things to clean up after.)

So we're driving home from the grocery store on Sunday evening, joking about how trips to the grocery store now that we are married are just exactly like trips to the grocery store when we weren't married, discussing how exciting it will be to watch Password (so my love of game shows is not a secret, right?), and won't it be nice to go take a walk around the lake on this uber-lovely, this is Minnesota in all its glory, weather.

I'm stopped at a red light, waiting to turn left. It turns green. But I'm so busy flirting with my husband, he actually has to say, "it's green." I look to the left and a blond in a red car with small dog blows through the red light. I look to my right - no one is coming. So I turn - straight into a little black car that has also run through the red light. The little black car backs up and DRIVES AWAY FROM THE SCENE. I immediately check that BB (eek! my husband!) is okay, our groceries are still in their bags, and FREAK THE FUCK OUT.

It is true that I don't have the best driving record, but I haven't ever, to my knowledge, fled the scene of an accident I have caused! Blech. And because of my less than stellar driving record, the insurance people are being dicks about it. Or maybe they're just being dicks because they are insurance people. Hard to say. Monster's pretty mangled, but there's no damage to the frame, so as soon as the insurance people give it a green light, he'll get fixed and we'll be out a large deductible.

So, bottom line. By the time the police and tow truck arrived, we missed Password. We did go for a walk around the lake, and we walked our damn groceries home, with only melted ice cream to show for our little misadventure.