My oldest daughter, who is 19, finally got her license last week after a few delays, most of which involved a year of living at BGSU in which a car is not a necessary accoutrement. As the vehicle she was driving needed some work, she was not able to really get onto the road on her own until yesterday.
This afternoon, a mere 24 hours after driving, she had her first accident.
Now, such stories are not uncommon, as young drivers will make mistakes. But how many drivers can make the claim that their first accident was with one of their parents' cars?
Me, to be exact. I saw her driving on the University of Toledo campus today, and I followed her for a minute to say hello. She was about to pull into a parking place when she began to back up to give herself a better angle.
WHAM! She smited my rusty-but-trusty 1995 Hyundai, no doubt loosening some chunks of corroded frame, but otherwise not leaving a visible scratch. She was mortified, but I couldn't help but laugh at the scene: of all the people into which she could have backed, she nailed her dad in his clunker.
Thus, my daughter learned an important lesson about knowing what is happening around her as she drives, and I gained a humorous annecdote that I will be sure to drag out for the next few years at family functions as we sit around the teak outdoor furniture.