With her leather and walnut features, it is just like sitting in some fancy bar. |
Sonia Kluger-Woog has now been a bona-fide member of the Woog family for 5 days and she is fitting in really well. No attitude problems, no talking back, just love and understanding. Because she is a plus-sized car, we have had to do a little garage tetris to fit her in, but she appreciated the effort I am sure.
Yesterday I was tooting around town with Sonia when we pulled up at an intersection. The car in front, a little white Kia, had decided that she had pulled out to far and without warning and with alarming speed, she started to reverse. I was watching, thinking, "My, that little car is reversing fast, I believe she is going to........"
SMASH INTO THE FRONT OF SONIA!
*insert smashing sound here. Cue hysterical everyone.
Once I had recovered from my minor heart attack and checked on the status of the kids, I alighted the car to find a Gen Y Moron standing at the rear of her Kia, staring. Dull, lifeless eyes, jaw slightly open and maybe, if I am correct, a small string of drool escaping form the corner of her thin lips.
"Are you ok?" I asked
"Yeah - I am fine..." she said like she reverses into cars everyday. She might have even sounded disappointed.
I braced myself to survey the damage and was delighted to discover that the only thing fucked up was the rear of the Kia, which I basically peeled off Sonia's bumper bar.
Later I called Mr Woog at work.
"We have been in a car accident!" I declared, rather dramatically. "Someone hit Sonia!"
There was complete silence. "Are you there?"
Mr Woog indeed let me know that he was there by releasing a torrent of profanities.
"Well in case you were wondering, I hurt my arm..." I said, pissed off.
But what I didn't tell him was that I actually hurt my arm a few minutes before when I got into Sonia and accidentally banged it on the door, but it was still hurting and I was clearly suffering from post traumatic shock and could not disassociate the collision of the cars and the collision of my arm and the door.
Later that afternoon, Mr Woog rushed home and straight out to see Sonia in the garage. He too, was pleased to note there was not a scratch on her. He inquired about my arm, and I told him that I did not think it was broken.
And then I made chicken and chorizo pasta with my good arm and all was right in the world.
THE END.