Ugh. As the parent of a new driver, I somewhat expected this call eventually, but I still wasn't prepared for it.
"A fender bender?" I squeeked. "Are you okay?" I was a little proud that this was my first concern.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm really sorry. I was trying to turn down the heat and he stopped suddenly. I didn't see. I'll get a job this summer and pay for the repairs..."
"Buddy, I'm just glad you're okay. I'm not worried about the costs. Is everybody else okay too? How's the other guy's car?" Internally, I was hoping for no damage.
"It's okay. The bumper is kinda pushed up a little, but he says we don't need to file a police report or anything. I got his contact information."
"That's nice of him. I'm glad everyone is okay. How's our car?"
"The headlight is smashed. I'm really sorry."
"Are you okay to drive home?"
"Yeah." In retrospect, I probably should have gone over and got him. He was pretty shaken up. So was his girlfriend who was in the car.
Heck, I was pretty shaken up. Having kids is scary. When he was born, I drove home from the hospital with my hazard lights flashing. It hasn't gotten any less scary now that he's out driving on his own. Can anyone let me know when having kids stops squeezing your heart like a vise?