The Day I Got Tar on My Car

Does anyone ever have a day they were unkind to someone and wishes you could take it back but can't? I am reminded of the movie "You've Got Mail," where Meg Ryan covers her mouth with her hand and just wishes she hadn't said something, but it was too late. The words were out. I was driving down my street today and I hit a bucket filled with tar. It was a black bucket in the middle of the road and our maintenance guy, Gale, was adding tar to the cracks in the road. I swerved (slight veer, really) to avoid impaling Gale with my car and hit the bucket going about 15mph and sent tar blanketing the whole right side of my car. At the time it was the worst site I had seen in my life. It was not just a small amount that one gets by driving on a newly-tarred road, but I estimated close to 2 gallons of hot tar. I operate on about 95% adrenaline (a "junkie," if you will) and I am ornery on moments I cannot control. As I was standing in the car wash bay trying to scrape warm tar off my car with a Shopko "frequent buyer card" the anonymous gentleman behind me explained "you will never get that off." He must have taken pitty on me because he gave me more quarters, shrugged his shoulders and said "Good luck." The front passenger-side wheel, not to mention about 50% of the paint and windshield were covered in dripping tar that was hardening in the moments we were standing there talking. I wanted to cry and scream all at the same time. After about 15 minutes of pressure-washing with no success, a young gentleman walked through the bay. "Do you work here?" I asked. "Yes." He replied. "Can you help me?" Two and a half hours and seventy-five dollars later, my car is exactly as it was before. The part I wish I could take back is the half hour my daughter and I walked to the Home Owners Association treasurer's house and I vehemently expressed my frustration and showed him my tar-covered hands and demanded I be reimbursed. The lump in my throat continued to swell and I looked at my daughter, who was listening with a captive ear, as she sat quietly on the front steps of the man's house I was berating. He explained I would be reimbursed and that he didn't think it was the fault of Gale, and that he was providing a service to our private, gated community. I walked away feeling no better, except that I would not be responsible for the $75 it was going to take to make my car "like new." We all have moments in our life we wish we would have just been quieter, more logical, less emotional, and a better example for the 6-year olds we are trying to mentor. Today I had one of those moments. Now I am left feeling worn out and tired and wish today I could have set a better example. I called my mother-in-law, who put it into perspective for me. "Tomorrow is another day."