End With A Bang

Literally.

Yesterday, after

• (a) sitting all morning in the salon having my hair colored and cut and my face waxed and threaded, and having a pedicurist cut me too deep;
• (b) receiving another “friendly” phone call from one of Wizard’s teachers;
• (c) picking up my new iPhone but spending an hour online and on the landline just to activate it;
• (d) hearing from the housekeeper that the boys’ rooms were trashed (again);
• (e) sending Wizard back to his locker to retrieve his lunch box before we left school;
• (f) returning home to find out that when Wizard put his lunchbox in the car, he left his backpack and lacrosse equipment at school; and
• (g) making the 5-mile trip back to school to retrieve everything . . .

while stopped at a red light, I was rear-ended. I was in a piss-poor mood and had the three kids in the car. After ascertaining the boys were OK, I stormed out of the car to ask for the woman’s insurance, registration and driver’s license. All the dingbat could say was “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! There’s really no damage to your car.” Honey, you picked the wrong day and the wrong broad to tangle with. “Get me your driver’s license and information NOW! You just smashed into me, and I’ve got three kids in the car.” The stupid bitch (SB) never even asked if my children were OK, and then she refused to give me her information until the police arrived.