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Sidst på dagen i
lørdags var vi i karambolage med en STO-O-O-OR lastbil, og
stakkels Owen Bigfoot Henderson fik en på tryk seksten. Hele
morgenen er gået med telefonopringninger, den vigtigste af dem
til forsikringen. Lige på det punkt i samtalen, da jeg var ved
at forklare - og overbevise - forsikringsdamen om - at ulykken ikke
var vores skyld (lastbilschaufføren er uenig!), besluttede
Bear at give sig til at gnaske højlydt på sit
yndlingslegetøj, et meget irriterende gummikødben, der
hyler og vræler, hver gang han sætter tænderne i
det. Jeg tror ikke, jeg gjorde så godt et indtryk, som jeg
havde håbet - nu da de tror, vi skærer folk i stykker
nede i kælderen.... |
Late in the day on Saturday we
had an altercation with a BI-I-I-IG freightliner truck, and poor Owen
Bigfoot Henderson got rather a little squooshed. All of this morning
was spent on the phone, most importantly to the insurance company.
Just at that moment in the conversation when I was in the middle of
explaining - and trying to convince - the insurance lady that the
accident was not our fault (the truck driver disagrees!) Bear decided
to start chomping loudly on his favorite toy, an exceedingly annoying
rubber bone that squeaks and squeals every time he bites into it. I
think maybe I might not have made quite the impression I had hoped to
- now that they think we're cutting up people down in the basement.... |
