OK, Mondays are right up there with Thursdays now, especially after yesterday. That afternoon, I was taking Lindsay and four other kids to swim practice. We are almost there and I find myself driving alongside a transport pulling a bulldozer on a low bed truck.
My first thought was that the truck was taking up a lot of room and then I realised he was pulling over into my lane. There was nothing I could do, we were coming up to lights and there was a concrete median on my left so I couldn't move over any further. I'm blowing my horn but he is still coming over. I couldn't speed up and get past him, but I was too far alongside him to brake, he would have still hit me and he did.
He clipped me with the bulldozer that was hanging a couple of feet over the bed of the truck and then kept on going. Fortunately everyone was OK - it could have been so much worse. I pounded on the horn until he pulled over and I pulled in behind him. I wasn't getting out, there was far too much traffic, and it seemed like forever before he sauntered back to check on us and to say he had called the police.
Lindsay stayed with me but the other kids had to scoot out and hoof it to swim practice and then we sat back and waited, and waited. Another shout out to my friend Linda, who was ready to jump in her car and come and keep me company! Meanwhile I called Rob, to tell him what had happened. After ascertaining we were all OK he actually asked me "Did you damage the bulldozer?". Are you kidding me ? I drive a minivan, how the hell was I supposed to damage a fucking bulldozer with a minivan? My armour plating perhaps? The grappling hooks affixed to my rims? Seriously? I will put it down to shock, but really of all the stupid questions ....
It was a couple of hours before the police arrived and I was getting antsy. It was a very nice cop that I spoke to and told him what had happened. I'm just guessing, but I think the fact that the bulldozer was a couple of feet over the edge of the truck, probably meant it obscured the view in the mirrors and the driver just didn't see me. Unfortunately it turned out that he had a totally different version of events. According to him, he was already in the lane, and I pulled out into oncoming traffic so I could pass him, ran out of room, pulled back in and clipped his bulldozer. I was gobsmacked. Maybe I am naive, but I couldn't believe that after endangering a van load of kids, the trucker could lie so blatantly. Fortunately the police had an issue with that story, and I was finally free to go.
Meanwhile my boss who had stopped by my home for a meeting, waited there until another friend brought Sid & Grady home from school. After explaining to them what had happened, and that we were OK, Grady was practically jubilant. Apparently mummy getting into an accident with a transport truck was at the top of his list of reasons for having McDonald's for dinner. Really, that's his big concern ? Failing that - because much to his chagrin, we didn't order McDonald's - he was only somewhat mollified that he could go into school the next day and regale his audience with tales of how his mum got hit by a bulldozer. I guess there is an upside to everything.
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