Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Blast from the Past -- Part 3 (Guest Appearance)

[Editor's note: The following was written a few years ago by my middle daughter. I thought it would be cool for you to read about our boring life here in Georgia from the perspective of someone else in our family-- which really translates to just sheer laziness on my part. Plus, I've got a mountain of really important stuff to do today like blog surfing. . . er. . . keeping up with current events.~c.n.]

Last summer my dad bought my family a golf cart. We have a lot of land to ride it on and he said it would be easier to get around. About the second day we had it, I was giving my little sister driving lessons--things like how to brake, how to steer, when to brake. I had just told her that she needed to slow down on this one hill because we don't know if my mom or dad's car is parked at the bottom. I don't think she listened to me though, because she went really fast and the next thing I knew was BAM. We had hit my dad's car! We sat still for a second, then I went to get my mom. My sister started crying. My mom told me to go get my dad. [Editor's note: Yep, that's what I did--surveyed the crunched bumper, then promptly sent for the Big Guy to handle it. After all, he's the one who gave the golf cart to them anyway, and then in perfect wisdom decided to let our 12 year old teach our 9 year old how to drive. Stellar. Or. . . maybe it was just payback for letting a "moth" into the house. ~c.n.] I told him that mom wanted him outside, quickly. He didn't know about the accident. When we got outside, and my sister saw him, her eyes got huge, and she ran up to him crying, "I didn't mean to, Daddy!" She went on and on. My dad was so confused he didn't know what had happened and why she was crying so much. He began to laugh, until I told him what happened. He looked at the wreck and I backed up the golf cart for him. His bumper was dented and the golf cart's windshield fell off, but he was glad that we weren't hurt. You may think I'm crazy, but I still let my sister drive me around. I think she learned her lesson. At least, I think.


Esther Sunday said...

Oh, girls, accidents happen! One time, I decided to wash my hubby's pickup. It was backed into the garage and as I pulled it out I forgot how long the bed was and scraped the whole side while turning out the garage too soon. I cried to, and I am a big 45 year! My hubby just laughed, as he knows it is soooo something that I would do! Love, Esther

Lolly Jane said...

cute story! our parents have 2 golfcarts, same reason as you, lots of room to roam. too much fun! love your site! xo~lolly jane

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