Last night just as I was drifting off, I was yanked from the verge of peaceful slumber by the telltale sound of squealing tires, impact, glass breaking, and a speedy departure. Fearing a hit and run in front of our house, I ran to the front window to see that someone had swerved through our front yard and distributed our trash and recycling bin (full of glass, of course) all over the yard and street. Lovely. I called the local police who were lovely as pie and came out to check the situation. My main concern was to avoid any other accidents from the detritus on the street (and there is no way we were going to stand in a dark street and sweep). The officer and Mr. D got the larger bits off to the side (with the cruiser as a barricade), and we were told that they would send a crew in the morning to clean up the mess.
Given that you need to exert a bit of effort to jump the curbs in our area, the driver must have either been drinking, sleeping, or driving so fast that they overcompensated the turn. In any case...scary.
This morning, as I left the driveway, a public works truck was pulling up to our house, and Mr. D informed me that they cleaned the street and our yard of the whole mess. Our tax dollars at work! Seriously, though- I was impressed and grateful for the service. I guess that’s an advantage of living in a small suburban community.
And is it terrible of me to hope that one of the poopy baby diapers lodged in the undercarriage of the offender’s car...and that it is parked in the sun today getting nice and ripe?