Sticks and stones may break my bones...

or DENT my new car!

Let me back up. Last night I got all inspired about attitude and perception after reading some cool quotes/stories on Justin's cousin's blog. I told Justin about it and how much I think my attitude affects me every day. I told him how I want to work harder on staying positive... all that good stuff.

So of course today was the worst! Nothing would go right.

It was just one of those Murphy's Law "everything that can go wrong WILL go wrong" kind of days.

So after having a generally frustrating day, I remembered I had some books to return to the library (due today). I tried to renew them online to save myself the trip. Of course one out of the nine couldn't be renewed since it was requested (who requests little toddler books? Come on) so I grabbed all of the books and headed out the door. I had about 20 minutes until hula practice (which is held at our house).

The thought ran through my mind that I shouldn't take the van (you know, our brand new van). I didn't see the keys to our car though, so I figured, what the heck I'll just take the van.

On the way to the library I thought, "What if I had that feeling for a reason? What if something bad happens to the van on this little trip to the library? Wouldn't that be awful?"

So I drove extra carefully.

On the way back, I came up upon a huge group of boys on either side of the street, with big pointed sticks/stakes, and 2 or 3 of them were in the street and not getting out of the way. I had to come to a complete stop (this is more of a main road, right by the underpass for the freeway, not a neighborhood street). I was honking my horn and rolled down the window and yelled at them to get out of the street when BAM!, a rock the size of a baseball comes soaring down and hits me smack dab in the middle of my hood.

I don't know how else to explain my reaction other than this:
I totally hulked.

I was FURIOUS.
My new car!! We haven't even made a payment on this thing yet! We don't even have license plates yet!
I rolled down my other window and started yelling, "WHO threw that?!"

They started running for it.
No way were they getting away.
I sped up ahead of them, pulled over, and walked straight over to them.

I just kept saying, "Who did it?" (I was using my scary voice)

One of them fessed up.

"Where are your parents?"
"They're at work."
"Who's supposed to be watching you?"
(note: he was 10, and looked about 7)
Other boy says, "My dad's home, I'm his cousin."
"Okay, let's go talk to him then."
"Noooooo!!"
"Do you want me to talk to your uncle or do you want me to call the cops?"
(Which I would have done except I didn't have my cell phone with me)
"Okay, my uncle."
"Does your uncle speak English?"
"No!! He only speaks Spanish."
(victory, or so he thought)
"That's fine, so do I."
(to which a kid that looked about 5 said, "You do??! Coooool!!!)

Anyway, to make a long story short, I talked to the uncle and came home.
Justin was completely ticked.
We called the cops.
The cops filed a report and 3 cops went with us to talk to the kids and uncle/aunt.
The little boy cried and said he was sorry, which was good.
One really cool cop said he would make sure he talks to the kid's parents.

We have a very small dent on the hood of our van. It's not enough to make those poor people pay for it. I'm pretty sure the kid was telling the truth when he said he meant to hit one of the other boys with the rock, not our car (not that that's good, but I think it was an accident). It's frustrating.

And I screwed up my freezer jam. Justin told me not to make it on a day like this. But I didn't listen. Sorry, baby.

I'll start tomorrow on the being a better person thing.