That Time I Ran a Car Into my Neighbor’s House

It’ll come as no surprise to you that I’ve done a lot of stupid crap in my {almost} thirty years on this planet. I briefly mentioned in another post about ramming my neighbor’s car into their house when I was twelve. I didn’t elaborate but now I will. You asked, I’ll tell. Call me Queen TMI.

Growing up, my next door neighbors were three sisters. Twins who are a year younger than me and their little sister who is two years younger than them. Mindy, Rachelle {the twins} and Tabitha {the now mom of three who has abs for days}. That’s irrelevant but if I had abs, I’d call myself Kendra With Abs so it’s worth noting that she looks like a model. I basically tagged along for everything they did. I’m not sure if I was actually invited, but we all figured Mama Pam wouldn’t notice one more kid in the car. Until I drove it through her laundry room. Ok, well not through it but that beige siding didn’t stand a chance up against that gold Lumina.

To be completely honest, I don’t really remember exactly how it  happened. Maybe I blocked it out or maybe I stuck to some ridiculous lie for so long that my brain doesn’t even know the truth.

What I think happened: Mindy, Rachelle and I were piled in the car waiting for Pam and Tabitha to finish getting ready.  I was in the driver’s seat, Rachelle in the passenger’s and Mindy in the back. Mindy told me to push the brake while she proceeded to put the car in drive, from the backseat. Then we cruised right into the wall of that laundry room. Clearly I didn’t know to put my foot on the brake. It was like one of those slow motion movies playing out in my head where I didn’t know how to make it stop and before I knew it, I was that girl who drove through my neighbor’s house. Forever, that girl. The same girl who tried to “put layers” in Mindy’s hair resulting in her getting  this hair cut the next morning.

What I told my parents {a couple of weeks later when they heard by accident}: I went to change the radio station and my arm hit that bar thing that makes the car drive.

If my white dad was a black lady, this would’ve been his face when he stood against the kitchen counter explaining that you have to push the brake and pull it from Park into Reverse, Neutral and then Drive.

Well DAD. I’m twelve so clearly I know what I’m talking about and I don’t need your logic and facts.

Why were you in the driver’s seat?

Uhh, I dunno.

Why didn’t you tell us? 

Because I didn’t wanna die…?

Did you not think to push the brake to make the car stop?

Apparently, no. No I did not.

If Pam hadn’t told us, would you have just never told us about this?

I would’ve taken it to my grave, Pops.

 

After that, I was terrified to drive. I ran down a post at the golf course. I practically drove in the ditch every time I met a car on the road when I was learning to drive. When I got my permit at 15, I drove my dad to the grocery store. I stayed in the car while he went in for the food. When it was time to leave I put the car in reverse. Kept hitting the gas but nothing was happening. Push the gas. Not moving. Check my mirrors. Watch for cars. Push the gas. Nope, not going anywhere. I said to Dad, “I’m scared to push it too hard because I’m afraid I’ll back out too fast and hit a car.” I don’t know what he responded with but we sat there for a few minutes with me being an idiot before my dad realized I didn’t even have the car turned on.

My response: but the radio is playing.

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2 comments

  1. Jo says:

    This is all so true!!!! But I didn’t know you cut mindys hair!
    I’m sorry Pam. My kid kept secrets from us. I owe you $$ for a hair cut!!

    Like

  2. Debby says:

    Oh Lord girl. I love your transparency though, and the fact that your daddy didn’t kill you. 🙂

    Like

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