Ben had a car accident yesterday. He was driving home after picking up the kid because I had an appointment to see a therapist after work. We got a monster thunderstorm yesterday which flooded the highway and so traffic was absurdly backed up all over the surface streets.
About 15 minutes into my session, my phone rang with Ben's stupid ringtone and I turned it off because HE SHOULD FUCKING KNOW I AM IN MY SESSION trying to get myself together so that I don't have to be a total bitch who screams at him about shit he already knows all the time.
When I got out, I looked at my phone and there were 2 text messages from Ben. The first said, "call me as soon as possible." The second said, "I totaled my truck". Now, perhaps you understand that my first reaction was kind of like, "THAT SEEMS LIKE AN UNDER-REACTION!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! IS EVERYONE OKAY???" And then I thought, "What the fuck!!!! Is my kid okay?"
So I called him immediately and he assured me that everyone was okay, not a single scratch or bruise, and that the seatbelts did exactly what they were supposed to do. By that time he had gotten home and Lila was resting on the couch watching Pingu (if you are unfamiliar with Pingu, think weird Japanese Penguin Gumby who doesn't talk but has some jibberish language).
I rushed home and was met at the door by an angry and obviously traumatized 3 year old who said, "We tried to call you because Daddy crashed and I was crying and you DIDN'T ANSWER YOUR PHONE!"
"Mommy was in with her doctor and didn't have my phone with me," I tried to explain.
"I was scared and I cried and I wanted you and YOU DIDN'T ANSWER!!!"
Yet another failure under Mommy's belt.
Rationally I know that it wasn't my fault and I could never have known. In my mind I assume that if I had a CAR ACCIDENT or some other emergency, that I might call more than one time knowing that the liklihood that a person would answer the phone when they were in therapy is pretty slim. But hey, I'm the insane one going to therapy, right?
But a part of me feels sad that I wasn't there.
Later that night, I tried to talk to Lila about it to figure out just how upset and traumatized by it she really was. And it turns out that she was more concerned about the thunderstorm and the fact that lightening is made of electricity (which scares the shit out of her now that she knows that...thanks Cat in the Hat Knows a lot about that) than she was about the car accident.
Before she drifted off to sleep, she asked me if Daddy was going to get a new truck and I told her we didn't know yet. She said she would be sad if he didn't have that old truck anymore because he had it when she was a baby. And I told her that we would all be just fine.