Today started out like any other day.
Crawl out of comfortable bed, shove contacts into bleary eyeballs, put coffee in sad, aging face.
Pull crabby kid from bed, put in warm bath, deposit Eggo waffles into kid.
Throw now awake kid into vehicle, steer vehicle toward day camp narrowly avoiding speed trap, extract kid from car and zoom away.
Increase volume on radio, roll eyes at DJs interviewing girl who has chlamydia and is uncertain if it was contracted from a one night stand in Vegas or from fiancee that she cheated on in Vegas and if he is cheating on her, change station.
Say quick prayer of thanks that I live sexless like a nun. (Note I did not say priest. We all know what priests are up to.)
And that’s when it happened.
Never take your eyes off the road. Never ever, ever, ever, people. Even if it is to look up toward the heavens in gratitude for your lonely and neglected yet disease free vagina.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Faster than I could do that Catholic gang sign thing they do when they make a cross or the letter Z, or whatever it is, on their chest. I’m not Catholic. That’s how thankful I was for my Sahara Desert sex life in that moment… I feigned temporary Catholicism.
If I’m not going to hell for that, I surely am for this next part.
As I rounded the bend of a rural backroad returning to suburbia, there he was… directly in front of the grill of my mid-sized SUV.
I panicked. Slam on brakes? No, car behind me riding my ass too closely. (Next time buy me a drink before taking me from behind, jerk.)
Pulling hard right would land me in the ditch and pulling hard left would place me firmly in front of a black Cadillac Escalade driven by what appeared to be a very surly stay at home mom experiencing a bad morning.
He looked at me, standing frozen in the lane. His big brown eyes wide, his chestnut colored hair on end, as he spread his arms out as if to say “No! Stop!”
All I could do was close my eyes in horror as fate took over.
Oh my God, oh my God, OH. MY. GOD. Did I hit him?!
Maybe I blacked out. Maybe the human body mercifully numbs all of your senses so you don’t hear or feel devastating impacts like these. I never felt or heard a thing… no thump against my tires, no screams of terror or crushing of bone as wheel pushed body into pavement.
By some miracle, I must have missed him. Did I miss him? I missed him!!
Oh wait. Oh no. No, no, no, no… NO!
Upon looking in my rearview mirror, my heart sunk, and my eyes immediately welled up with stinging tears.
Goodbye, Mr. Squirrel, please forgive me. While I feel terrible for expediting the process of life and death because I was distracted with my withered up lady bits, I will find comfort knowing that you are eternally romping through that big nut-filled meadow in the sky.
Rest in peace, little nature nugget, you will be missed.