There are situations that occur occasionally when something happens and it feels like the end of the world as we know it. This is especially true if you are a young child who very much wants to please your parents.
We had an event such as this happen this past weekend. My 11 year old daughter, Khloe, felt as if she had created the worst disaster that possibly could have happened in her very young life.
Here is her story about the golf cart and the truck.
Yard Work & Betty White (The Golf Cart)
This past Sunday, Khloe and her father were out, putzing around on our old, white, battery powered golf cart that we affectionately call Betty White.
They were spraying weeds, burning a stump that needed to be removed, and picking up some sticks out in the yard. Betty is fairly reliable, quiet, and easy to drive around the yard. Usually we have her Up North at the cabin, but we’ve had her at our home over the winter and have not had the chance to take her to Barryton yet for the summer.
After adding a little bit of wood to the stump to keep the fire going, Brian and Khloe came in to eat lunch and take a break. Brian had the left Betty parked near the stump that was burning. Once inside, he decided they probably should move the golf cart a little bit away from the fire. It was a small fire, but he was trying to err on the side of caution.
“Khloe, can you go and move Betty away from the fire,” Brian asked.
“Dad, I don’t want to go back outside,” Khloe replied.
“Too bad. Just go move it a little bit away from the flower garden and it should be fine.”
Khloe gave another small protest, but eventually got up and headed outside. I continued loading the dishwasher, while Brian finished his Peameal bacon. (If you’ve never tried Peameal bacon, you should. I talk about it in my Canada post from last year.)
A minute or two later, Khloe burst back into the house very upset, sobbing uncontrollably.
In her mind, the worst thing in the world had just happened.
Brian & the Truck
I need to stop my story for just a moment and explain Brian’s relationship with our new truck. (I promise I’ll get back to Khloe’s disaster, although I’m thinking you can put two and two together.)
Brian loves our new truck. It’s a pewter blue 2024 Chevy Silverado. He likes the display screen inside. He likes the mats on the floor. Brian loves everything about it. Everything.
When we go anywhere it the truck, he parks WAY out in the farthest spot possible so that no one will park next to him. The kids are not allowed to eat in the truck, ever. He will sometimes let them drink water after we pick them up from a sports practice, but that would be it.
It is safe to say that Brian is a little crazy when it comes to his behavior surrounding keeping the truck as nice as possible for as long as possible. Part of me doesn’t blame him. If you have kids, you know how difficult it is to keep anything nice for very long. Even with best of intentions, wear and tear happens.
Life happens, and that’s exactly what occurred this pas Sunday.
Khloe’s Accident
So…back to my story.
Khloe burst in the house sobbing uncontrollably. It was the type of sound when you hear it as a mom, you figure that someone cut a foot off or something terrible like that.
I ran into the dining room and she grabbed onto me for a hug. In between sobs, she kept saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
As I’m holding her, I’m running my hands up and down her arms and scanning her for any blood. I didn’t see anything concerning so I was not panicking as of yet.
At this time, the boys had made their way into the dining room to see what the commotion was all about, as well as Brian. It didn’t take long and some of Khloe’s other ramblings were making their way through the sobs.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was the tree or the truck. I tried to go in between. It was on the hill. I couldn’t steer.”
Each one of us, with the exception of Khloe who had her face buried in my neck, turned our heads and looked out the bow window to the driveway.
Betty White was crashed into the passenger door of Brian’s brand new Chevrolet, with her front right tire lodged under the running board that I use to step up into the truck. A large, white scrape could be seen along the bottom of the passenger door. It was quite the scrape.
Brian didn’t say a word and headed outside. The boys just stood where they were, giving each other a look, not knowing what to do next.
The Aftermath
As soon as I realized what had happened, I started to reassure Khloe that everything was going to be okay.
“No one is hurt. You are okay. This is not a catastrophe,” I reassured her.
“It is, Mom. It’s awful. He’s going to be so mad.”
“Look at me. Stop crying.” I took Khloe’s shoulders and had her turn her eyes towards me. “You are okay. That is all that matters.”
“Look at him, Mom. He’s so mad.” Khloe turned her head to look outside. Brian was sitting on the golf cart, hands resting behind his head, just staring at the truck.
I couldn’t help but smile, although I didn’t let her see that.
“It’s okay. He will fix it. You didn’t mean to hit the truck.” I continued to hug Khloe, then turned to the boys. “Kaleb, go help your dad dislodge the golf cart from under the truck. Keegan, go with him to see if they need help.”
When the boys left, I dried Khloe’s eyes and tried again to stop the endless tears. She was quieter now, but very much still shaken up with the idea that she ruined her dad’s beautiful truck. It bothered me that she was so distraught over a small fender-bender. While I was glad she understood the magnitude of the situation with her father, I still was worried about how she would react if the situation was an actual crisis.
Eventually, Brian made his way into the house and gave Khloe a hug. It may not have been his biggest and brightest hug he’s ever given her, but it was a start. After a small pinch from me on his arm, he reassured her that he wasn’t mad and that it would all be okay.
“Dad. You’re mad,” responded Khloe.
“No I’m not,” Brian denied, unconvincingly. “We can have it fixed.”
“You’re not mad?” Khloe asked again.
“No. It’s okay.”
Fast forward a couple of hours later, the boys and I were in the house watching a basketball game on TV. I looked out the dinning room window, and Khloe and her dad were riding around on Betty, finishing the earlier job of picking up sticks in the yard.
The white paint that had transferred from Betty onto the truck had been wiped off. The dent was still there, but the severity of the incident was starting to lessen.
Learning a Life Lesson
Brian is going to be a little frustrated with me when he reads this, but I’m glad the golf cart/truck fender bender happened.
It took a situation such as that to remind me that I need to take the time to teach the children about the difference between a ‘life-altering’ catastrophe, as opposed to an accident that may be serious, but not a tragedy.
There’s a balance that you hope your children achieve when it comes to situations like this.
You want them to understand and value the cost of an item and the need to not be irresponsible in their actions, however, you also want to teach about forgiveness and the importance of moral character over things.
It’s not the first time I’ve wondered if I know what I’m doing as a mom.
I guess I’ll keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best.
Goals for Today:
- Watch Amazing Race with Brian
- Read a Chapter in my Latest J.D. Robb Book
- Go to Bed Early – School has been Crazy Lately