My two older children are downstairs screaming, delighting in the acoustics of the newly-drywalled basement. I wish I could join them, but for a different reason.
Zane just got in a car accident, in the little, fragile, 60 mpg car. Fortunately, he's fine. At least, that's what he claims on the phone. Also fortunately, it was not his fault. He was rear ended on the freeway. Unfortunately, it looks like the little Insight is totaled. I'm sure it is; it's not like it's a big sturdy SUV that could conceivably take a good rear-ending. No, it's gone. I loved that car.
Now we get to deal with the paperwork of insurance claims, the pain of shopping for a new car, and the financial surety that even if we WERE to get full blue book price (we won't -- deductibles, you see), the car was worth more than that money because it meant we didn't have to get a new car. I hate this.
Thanks, Dad, for driving to Orem to pick up Zane and bring him home. Through accident, rush hour traffic.
That was one expensive business trip.