This is an “Uh Dad” sequel of sorts. Not the same story, just another one that came to mind.
Phones still rang in those days. No caller ID either. Mid-afternoon, some fall weekend, mid-to-late ’80s. This one’s earlier than the last “Uh, Dad.” Jim was in college, his brother Jeffrey a few years behind him, still in high school.
Phone rang. I answered. “Hello.”
“Uh, Dad—”
Oh s—. Here we go again.
“Uh, Dad. I had a little accident in the car. I’m ok, but I did some damage to the bottom. Jeffrey’s with me. We’re ok, but I need you to come get me. Oh yeah, police are here, and I got a ticket.” (Not sure about that part.)
It was raining. Streets were wet. He’d had to make a turn, going a little too fast for the conditions, and ran the car right over the median. The car was no longer drivable.
Here’s what I thought. Self-censored a bit. What!! You little #%¥£~%^£. That’s my car. How could you be so careless?
But what I said was, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Ain’t I cool?
Luckily, the twenty-five-minute drive gave me time to calm down.
When I arrived on scene, I saw the mess. And I saw them. The fear in their eyes, and the great news that they were sort of ok, brought the parent instinct right to the front. Their recollection may differ, but I believe I became comforter-in-chief. Rather than chief punisher.
Now, this is what they told me. Can’t remember who said exactly what. They were both talking, nervously, of course. Jim had been picking Jeffrey up from football practice, bringing him home. Jeffrey still had his uniform on, helmet in his lap.
I asked how the windshield got cracked.
They told me Jeffrey had his seat belt on, helmet in his lap, and when the car hit the island and the bottom scraped, the impact threw the helmet up into the windshield. No visible injury on Jeffrey, so I believed it.
Wrong.
About forty-five years later, Jeffrey told me that was BS. He wasn’t wearing his seat belt. It wasn’t the helmet that cracked that windshield. It was his head.
Can you imagine the “what ifs” of that situation? Scares the hell outta me to think about it. So I won’t.
I dunno the statute of limitations on lying to your old man, but I wasn’t ready to prosecute… then or now.
Rightly or wrongly, it’s all part of parenthood.
How lucky and blessed we were, as parents. Our kids grew up safely and strongly. All three of ’em wonderful adults and parents themselves now, raising great kids of their own, with all the challenges that go along with that particular journey.
We must’ve done something right.
Enuf.
P.S. I’ve got several other “Uh, Dad” stories I could share, involving Christine or Jeffrey. But this one Jim asked for himself. Now that’s enuf.
