I walk in and I see this:
Ok, Mom, it's just Lex Luthor (the name we gave her car)... what about it?
Look closer.Holy Macaroni! What happened?!
Oh my God! What did you do?!
Lexxxxx!! Man... I can't look anymore... it hurts.
Who was at fault? Mom, of course.
Lex ran over some 19-year-old girl's car.
It was "tricked" out aka had tiny little tires that made it almost invisible to see in Lex the Hoss. Lex just rolled over the car and smashed it, very "à la Monster truck," leaving the poor girl carless.
Mom couldn't see it, girl wasn't paying attention to the road/was eating and texting and now you have a dead white tricked out car, a smashed up Lex Luthor who's probably going to end his days back at the Denver dealer we got him from (Nooo! I wanted him!! I was going to trade Bambi and keep Lex, but now I can't have him because the Dos Santos don't roll in crashed cars... although... Bambi's a smashed car... why the F don't I get a new ride??), and a Mom who will now get the uglier, bigger version of the Lex SUV.
What was the first thing I said to Mom upon seeing it?
And you had the nerve to "ground" me, a 22-year-old, for coming home late last night because "one of these days you're going to get into an accident!!"
What the helllllllll?!
Yes, I was chastising Mom and giving her a hard time.
I still do it when I think about it.
Me: So, Dad, I hear Mom nearly killed you coming home from work today (Dad was in the car with her).
Dad: Yeah, I know... here I am, thinking cancer's going to kill me, but no... it's your mom who's gonna do that!
Mom pouts and goes out of the room.
And I'm gonna keep doing it until Mom lifts this ban, so I can go to the Dollyrots concert with Chase on Sunday.
She already prevented me from going over to Leky's house to play some Guitar Hero with the homies and the cute ass puppies... I'm not about to let this other thing happen.