This morning, after an almost 13 hour sleep I woke up completely exhausted at 6:15. I dragged myself out of bed not quite ready to face the day. I took the time to blow dry my hair with the hopes that that would somehow make me more ready for the day.
I sat in my car at 7:15 while Eric strapped Madeleine into her seat. I turned the car on. I looked down at the emergency brake, and seeing it was on, lifted my feet off of the brake and clutch. The car jerked forward and I heard Eric yell. Maddy immediately started screaming. I turned around and couldn’t see Eric, but knew I had hurt him. I jumped out of the car and ran around to find him lying on the ground grasping at his knee and foot. I burst into tears. Had I really just run over Eric’s foot? Indeed. His sandal was still stuck under the tire.
For you non-standard drivers… the car was still in first gear, I hadn’t put it in neutral. Not just had I not put it in neutral, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
I’m sure this incident is an example of how worn out my mind and body is. After two weeks of heading to work without enough sleep and coming home to a post-daycare puddle of a mess who fights against me with every ounce of her being, my body is telling me it’s giving up. The thing is, if I strike, there’s not really a suitable candidate to take my place. The only other adult in the house was run over today, and I’m pretty sure his body is going to strike soon too.
Tonight I will sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. But, if you see me out in my car, I’d keep a safe distance 😉