Why I Should Have Bought Temporary Car Insurance

(or can insurance: from www.onedayvaninsurance.org.uk )Don't you just hate it when your parents are right? I told my mom she should tattoo "I'm always right" on her forehead because when she's yammering on about how I should be smart or responsible or whatever, all I can think is that she's like, forty, and therefore her knowledge is ancient and I just got out of high school and newer is better so obviously my knowledge kicks her knowledge's crusty old behind.

So, I got accepted to Georgetown and now I'm moving to D.C. My whole family chipped in to buy me a car, which was pretty cool, and my best friend, Karen, offered to drive me from Montana to D.C., since she has a truck with a trailer hitch and that's what best friends are for. So, I loaded my stuff into her truck, hitched my car to its bumper, and off we went. A week before the move, the mom unit tells me I need to get car insurance. I tell her that I'll do it in D.C. She tells me I can get temporary insurance instead and she's talking so much I finally ask her when she started doing commercials for insurance companies. She just throws up her hands and says, "Fine, learn the hard way then." I know, right? How annoying is that? I think parents take a class or something.

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I don't know if you’ve ever been to Montana, but there are like a lot of mountains you have to drive down. A lot of mountains. Karen's piloting her big truck (everyone in Montana has a big truck, I don't think you're allowed to live there without one) down yet another mountain when we hear this weird kathunka noise. Everybody knows that the best way to deal with weird car noises is to crank up your stereo so you don't have to hear them anymore, so that's what we did. Then this car passes us, which is just crazy because again – mountain! And Karen's all, "Jerk." And I agree, of course, because she's my BFF and that's what you do. Then Karen goes, "Hey, that looks like your car!" And I'm all, "Wow, it d- oh my god it IS my car!" My car's whizzing by but it doesn't manage the turns so great since, you know, nobody's driving it. I know, who knew cars couldn't drive themselves?

So, long story short, my car gets totaled and I'm wigging because, duh, no insurance and I'm really not looking forward to telling my mom she was right again. Not to mention how cheesed the family will be that their stellar gift is now a twisted heap of metal wrapped around a tree. But the mom unit, because she really isn't bad despite her annoying habit of always being right, went behind my back and got the insurance. And I learned my lesson: I don't have to be responsible because that's what Mom's for.

Copyright 2010 John Maxwell