The Little Plastic Car with the Paper Roof

I got my deer just a few days before the season officially opened this fall.

I didn’t really ‘get’ my deer…she got me! I was innocently heading home from a church meeting in my little plastic car with the paper roof. I reached in my pocket, pulled out my cell phone and called home to let Paul know I was on my way. It was almost 10 o’clock…and he was in bed. I started telling him that I had just left town... when out of nowhere came Bambi’s mom, halahootin’ across the road, followed by a herd of 5 or 6 more. Although I only hit one, it sounded much worse from the inside of my little plastic car with the paper roof.

The worst bloodcurdling scream came out of my mouth and shot into my cell phone, which exploded and flew from my hand, landing somewhere in the dark as I hit the brake. I pulled off the road and madly searched for my phone on the seat...on the floor...and even in my pocket.

I remember thinking that poor Paul must be scared to death after hearing that horrible scream and then total silence. But I couldn’t find my phone....to tell him that I was fine! I hate to admit it but panic set in quickly. Here I was on the side of the road, after dark, no other traffic, no phone, and a messed up car that might not be able to limp the 5 miles home. My mind started slapping together the worst case scenarios. (Why is it that human brains do that anyway?)

Then came the anger…Why in the world wasn’t Paul calling me? Did he go back to sleep? How could he have listened to that shriek of pure terror…and fallen back to sleep? How could he? Doesn’t he even care? If he’d only call me back, my phone would light up …and I could give him a piece of my mind…and then….everything...would be....okay.

And then the tears...

Long story short, I calmed down, found my phone, talked to Paul and made it home safely.

And the small two-stall garage has now become a nice hibernating place for the little plastic car with the paper roof.