I ran over a possum once.
Wait. Would that be an opossum? Or a possum?
Where's an English Major when you need one?
Oh--there we go. According to Opossum.org, it's got an O.
I ran over one of them-thar creatons. I mean--creatures.
I was in high school. It was the fourth of July, and I was not alone. I was driving my tiny, white Hyundai Accent. My boyfriend, with whom I was completely enamored, was in the passenger seat. In the back seat, Shannon. We spent that entire summer together. I'm talking toothbrushes at the opposite houses, clothes left behind, ate all our meals together... spent-the-entire-summer-together.
Shannon--not the boyfriend. I would later find out he was disposable. But never mind that.
So we were driving to our destiny (ok, fine, the park....and we may or may not have had bottle rockets stashed in the trunk), and out came the (o)possum, in all of his beady-eyed glory. He was HUGE. So big he was waddling.
And before I could react, I was running over him. No attempts to swerve, no brakes... just... tha-thump-a-bump!
...that wasn't all, either.
tha-thump-a-bump! went the back tire too.
I don't know what came over me at that moment, but I started to laugh. I laughed hysterically. I laughed until my stomach ached and tears ran down my face. And so did my disposable boyfriend.
...but when I looked in the rear-view mirror, I saw a completely different expression across Shannon's face. She was one part mortified, one part sad. Not just sad--downright up.set. over the demise of the (o)possum.
Shannon is that way, you see. She's a gentle, kind soul. She loves like there's no tomorrow. Even (o)possums.
Why am I telling you this? It's my way-too-long-to-be-an-introduction, um, introduction. All of this to tell you Camden had a date yesterday afternoon. With Shannon's daughter.
Could they be any cuter?
I think not.