Happy Friday the 13th

Lastnight Lucy and I were happily wrapping gifts on the livingroom floor while listening to Christmas music. Brandon had just gotten home and was sitting in the kitchen, about 3 bites into his late meal. In the midst of our unassuming festiveness, came the ring of the doorbell. I wondered who on earth would be stopping by this time of night (just a shade before 8PM - and yes, it makes me feel old to say that).

I opened up the door to a young man saying, "Your car is on fire."

I looked toward the driveway, where Brandon and Husband's cars were parked.

Indeed, he was right. A small flame was visible from underneath Brandon's car.

I thanked this neighborhood saint and summoned Husband, who ran out to move his car while I called 9-1-1. The boys went out and stood at the end of the driveway, while Lucy and I stood in the front window. It had been about 5 minutes (i.e. FOREVER) and the police were there, but no fire truck. The fire was quite large by this time, and things started popping. I called again, and they assured they were on their way and said Lucy and I should exit the house, just in case. We could smell the burning rubber downstairs as we went out the back door with Buddy. Trudging through the snow, we made it to the front to see the car pretty engulfed. The fire truck came up just as we approached the curb, and Buddy answered with his best howls. Lucy was upset, I was stressed and felt so bad for the big kid; he's had a string of bad luck with cars and life in general, and I knew he could not afford this setback on many levels. I won't elaborate, but this is his 4th car in about 2.5 years. Enough said.

Lucy and I went to stand in the neighbor's driveway, and I noticed a vehicle parked there, with a guy leaning out of his window recording the events on his cell phone. I approached him and asked him if he didn't think it was a bit weird that he was recording everything. He did not think so, and apparently also didn't appreciate me suggesting otherwise. While I stood there in the cold trying to calm my frantic, crying 4-year-old, he continued to make comments (and record). I had a few words for him myself (clean ones, mind the children...) but my most effective barb was to stand directly in front of his camera shot. He eventually left, but not without a last jab. I found out a bit later this was the same guy who had earlier pulled IN our driveway to ask if they could help, as the firetruck was screaming down the street to our house. Husband basically said thanks, but get the hell out of the way. Apparently they sought refuge in the neighbor's driveway (they weren't home), where they could still get a good view.

I appreciate people's concern, I really do. Several people came out to ask if they could help, and I realize there is some level of allure and excitement that people might want to observe, maybe snap a photo or two. But why take a video? What are you going to use it for? And if the owner of the property asks you to stop, why wouldn't you? It just doesn't sit right with me.

Lots of water and chemicals and a saw to the hood later (that's a pretty painful sound to hear, by the way), the fire was out and the car was completely totaled. It was a relatively inexpensive car to begin with, so the loss was not covered by insurance and the local Cars for Kids got a donation. Now we search for a different car. Again.

It wasn't until one of the firemen mentioned it, that we realized it was Friday the 13th. I'd say we're good for a few years' worth of bad luck, don't you think?