Somebody call 911

The only good way to start off a vacation is to get lost, have my food order messed up twice, and get sideswiped on the interstate at 70 mph. Right?

I'm thankful it wasn't worse. I'm thankful that we only got lost for about 5 minutes.

I'm thankful the manager gave me a refund on my meal. (I'm only pretending that the cooks in the back didn't spit in my McWrap after it took them three times over 19 minutes to make it correctly. You shoosh if you're going to ruin this thought.)

I'm also thankful that our 70 mph wreck wasn't any worse than what it was. I told DH if you're going to wreck, this is the best way to do it.

A college kid was driving home after a full week of exams on little to no sleep with a car full of hoarded crap. Imagine the hoarders show and then try to imagine an entire 10x10 dorm packed into a Crown Vic. It was a tight squeeze.

He didn't see us and he admitted to falling sleep when he veered into our lane. DH did some magic Days of Thunder driving skills to keep the car from spinning and under control as he drove it through the gravel, grass and sand on the side of the Interstate.

I called 911 for a state trooper and we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It's a pet peeve of mine when someone calls 911 back a second time and says "I called 45 minutes ago." When in reality, I can see the recording that came in 15 minutes before. So I hated to call back to 911 but I'm glad I did since 911 didn't bother to call me back and tell me the trooper couldn't find us 45 minutes after the initial call. The dispatcher told him we were two miles west of the rest stop when we were actually two miles east of it. When the mount me cop didn't see us exactly where 911 said, he stopped looking.

An hour and a half later, we were back on the road again.

No tire damage. No wheel damage. Only cosmetic damage which will still cost a pretty penny.

We arrived safe and now it's time to relax.

Vacation tip #1. Bring your own pillows. The ones here are too poofy.