Today was not a typical Sunday at the Jones house. It was, in fact, a highly unusual Sunday in a somewhat unusual weekend.
Andrew came to visit, so that was a welcome difference. I still had to work, but as he is in med school and had to study, the arrangement worked out very well. He studied while I worked, and we hung out when I was home. We walked around town, saw the new meat market, were given free ice cream from my boss, made a delicious dessert, and threw the frisbee (we were both woefully out of practice). A delightfully low-key Saturday.
This morning, as we were getting ready for Sunday School and church, our day took a decidedly different turn. My dad, who had to work this weekend, and who has ridden a motorcycle to work every day for longer than I've been alive, hit a deer on his drive to work this morning. On his motorcycle. He called my mom from the ER, told her he was fine and not to come until she needed to come and get him. In his words, "I'm just sitting and waiting." (My dad is an extremely gentle and low-key man.) So, instead of going to church, my mother, Andrew and I drove to fetch Dad from the hospital (he works at the hospital, and it's about a 35-minute drive from our house). Turns out, he actually hit the deer about five minutes from our house, and when he realized he wasn't really damaged, picked up his bike and drove it to work! When he got closer to the hospital that he realized he needed to get checked out. The bike is still at the hospital, much skint up on the right side and missing its right-side mirror (which we picked up from the median on our way home).
Dad is fine; he has his left hand in a splint (maybe a hairline fracture) and his right arm in a sling (potentially torn ACL on his shoulder. He has a huge lump and will call the orthopedist tomorrow). He's mostly bored of the sling and split already, and in his words, "annoyed at being sidelined." He's very independent, and doesn't like people to make a fuss over him. We're all very thankful for his Kevlar riding suit, which took the brunt of his slide down the highway (exactly like it's supposed to). Protective gear! Wear it!