We woke up at 7 and fed Lu papaya for the first time. She ate it with relish turning her pajamas a birth orange. Then she drank her bottle and played with her daddy on the bed. She had her early morning nap while we took quick showers. I changed 5 times trying to find a flattering outfit that would fit the casual formal dress code. Then Lu woke up and I changed her 5 times finally setting on a cute embroidered denim dress and a yellow long sleeved shirt. Devoted Daddy put the diaper bag together while i fussed with Lu´s hair and my makeup. Almost 4 hours after waking up we were finally ready to leave the house.
I was pretty excited about our plans for the day: a birthday party in which I would get to gossip with my friends while Lu got to hit a piñata and watch a kiddie show followed by a family wedding in which a lot of extended family members would get to meet Lu for the first time. The birthday party was at 11 and the wedding at 12.30 but both parties were really close to each other and to our house.
My husband was driving my car since it was blocking his and Lu was happily babbling away in her car seat. I remember telling Devoted Daddy that Lu was in an excellent mood for a party when I felt something crash into our car form behind. Devoted Daddy says I started shouting “What´s going on?” as the car spun wildly out of control. It spun a whole circle and then crashed into a glass encased ad in the raised dividing strip. When the car finally stopped moving I smelled and saw smoke, so I dived into the backseat, unstrapped a hysterically crying Lu and ran to the other side of the road. I started shushing Lu and kissing her head when a woman with a baby on the backseat rolled down her window and asked me hysterically if Lu was ok. I checked her again and saw she was fine while the woman drove off shouting she was getting the cops.
I looked around for my husband and instead I saw three very, very drunk tuxedoed teenagers sitting on the curb. I kissed Lu´s head and rocked her while hurrying toward the teenagers. When I got close enough I started crying, screaming and slapping them hysterically. “You stupid idiots, you almost killed my daughter your murderers, you should go to jail!”
Then I heard the wail of sirens and turned around to see an ambulance and a police cruiser approaching. They got out of the car and ushered the teenagers into the backseat while the paramedics asked me over and over if we were fine and if we wanted to go to the hospital. My husband then approached me asking me to look for his glasses inside the wrecked car, furious that the drunken teen driver had sped away (abandoning his friends in the curb).
It was then that I saw the car and understood why everyone seemed so crazy. The car was completely destroyed. The trunk was in the back stear and the front was practically in the front seat, a ball toy Lu was playing with was wedged in the dashboard and the drivers door was scrunched beyond recognition.
I don´t want to go into details about the rest of the miserable day but I can say a lot of Father´s Days where ruined: not only Devoted Daddy´s, my father´s and my father´s in law but also the cops and car insurance guys who had to stay and sort out the mess till 8 at night. But the worst Father´s Day of all was probably the one the drunk teen´s father had, an elderly and sick man who almost fainted when he saw Lu and then shape of our car. For him this Fathers Day meant sitting in a curb for hours waiting while the whole mess got sorted out while his son stayed in bed watching soccer and eating chilaquiles, curing his hangover (thanks to overprotective dominating Mexican mothers who feel they have to take care of their men even if they are criminals). It meant having to hear again and again how he was failing as a father and how his son was a potential murder from lots of different people. It meant him staring at Lu´s smiling face while I told him how this could have happened to him 17 years ago on a Father´s Day Sunday.
I am furious at that idiot teenager who endangered the two most important people in my life (and left me carless in the process), who never showed his face to even apologize, who was drunk at 11 am (the being 17 part is not such a surprise in Mexico), who left his very sick father to deal with his stupidity, whose only lesson will be that he can do whatever he wants because his parents have his back . I wish I could also be angry at his father but I can´t really stop thinking now that I´m a mom: where did he go wrong? What type of choices, what type of behaviors, what type of child rearing turned a babbling, bouncy baby boy into a drunken criminal?