Target Practice?

Ok. Do me a favour. Look closely at the photo above. Do YOU see a target on my forehead? I don't but I know it has got to be there.

I am sure you have noticed that my day is never complete without a crisis. I had thought my daily crisis was out of the way fairly early on yesterday. Silly Blondie! The early crisis was wedding dress related as my daughter has found her dress and yet can't find anyone local {in her college area} who can or will order it for her. GAH! I truly disliked the women in my local area who had it but told her if that is what it took, that it would happen. I got word back from my daughter later that she finally found a local bridal shop complete with a very helpful woman who could indeed order the dress. Crisis averted! SWEET!

{blondie's note before you proceed: EVERYONE is ok.}

Cut to later that night. Phone rings. At 10:27. The house line. I NEVER pick up the house line. Last night I did. I hear my X on the other end. WTF? This can't be good and I don't even know what he wants. "Your son has been in an accident" is how he begins his tale. WTF? Dude, don't you know you NEVER start out that way. You start out with "your son is fine, however...." Fucking Hell, man! Are you TRYING to give me a heart attack?

My son was indeed in a traffic accident while on duty as a fire explorer riding out with a Fire Paramedic Captain last night. Rear ended by a drunk driver. A drunk driver with a 0.26% BA level. The following is a snippet from his account:

Then Capt. says something like "*Boy* hold on were gonna be hit". Then boom we got hit by another truck going about 50+ MPH. I got out of the truck and got to the shoulder and stopped traffic. Capt radioed in that we had been hit and to start additional resources.

They transported both Capt and my son to the trauma center with lights and sirens where they were both released after xrays and exams. My son, who is spending his weekend with his dad opted to come HOME rather than back to his dads. He was home by about midnight-thirty and attempted to go to bed, but was just too wound up. He did sleep well after finally settling down. {aside from the fact that I would poke him occasionally to make sure he was still alive} I think we finally went to bed for good around 2 am this morning. He is sore. He is pissed off. He is suffering a bit from the PTSS. He will be okay. He is talking a lot about it and writing about it, which is good.

Meh! I don't know who needs to hear me but its ENOUGH! I won't be giving up any time soon in spite of the hits that just seem to keep on coming.

Nevertheless I know full well how truly blessed I am this morning. I can take it. I just wondered if y'all see the target that has truly got to be on my forehead.

*sigh*