The Darndest Things: Emergency Emotions

The first phone call we made after our tire blew out was to my mom’s cellphone. My mom was at my sister’s house. So was my grandfather, who is our Official Family Mechanic. {All of this took place before I recalled that our car insurance included roadside assistance.}

My sister, apparently, was horrified that we were stopped on the freeway. I suppose it didn’t so disturb her that we were stopped as it did that the other cars were moving along nicely at roughly 75 miles per hour. So she did what any sane person would do. She called 911.

I am so glad we didn’t know this at the time. We thought the nice officer just happened to show up and check on us because that is what nice officers do when they see cars broken down on the freeway.

Our daughter A. was trying very hard to be brave. She was doing a very good job, but it bothered her when we moved the car {policeman’s orders} and the tire bumped and bumped. She has informed us many times that she generally disapproves of bumpy roads.

So, as I was saying, she was nervous about moving the car. But she bore up bravely, and we assured her that the nice officer knew exactly what he was doing and was trying to keep us safe. When we got to the place he directed us, which was, admittedly, much safer than where we had been, she was visibly relieved.

The officer came up to the window and chatted with Si once more before he left, and when we walked away, I turned to her and said, “Wasn’t that nice of the officer to help us like that?”

Si also told her what a good policeman he was.

She was filled to bursting with emotion and exclaimed with all sincerity, “I love him!”