Eff. Em. Ell.

Driving KatyBeth home from the Ex Wife’s house last night, I totaled my truck.

Took a curve too fast, went through the ditch and hit a utility pole. I was driving within the speed limit, but too fast for road conditions. The impact caved in the driver’s door and the roof all around the driver’s side of the truck, right where my head should have been. By all rights I should be dead.

KatyBeth and I are okay, with no injuries to speak of. She was asleep in the front passenger seat when it happened, wearing her lap belt with the shoulder restraint looped behind the headrest (yes, I know she should have been on a booster seat for the restraint to fit properly).

After the accident, I checked her out physically to make sure she was okay, and just held her in my arms and whispered thankful prayers until help could arrive to get us out of the vehicle. KatyBeth only cried for a couple of minutes, more scared than anything, and didn’t want me to put her down for a while.

I had to deal with the local police in the aftermath of the wreck, however, so I sat her in the front seat of the officer’s cruiser while I fished out registration and insurance papers (liability only, hence the title of this post). She was fine when I left her, but when I went back to check on her five minutes later, she was crying again.

“What’s wrong, little girl?” I blurted as I scooped her up, wondering if there was something I’d missed. “Are you hurt? Show Daddy where you’re – “

“I’m okay,” she sobbed, patting me on the back gently. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

That’s when I lost my shit.