I almost got run over by my own car just now.
Carolyn has this thing where she thinks that any time we get in or out of the car, she should be able to sit in the front seat and jiggle the steering wheel.
Today she also locked the door on herself.
Luckily, I'd left the back door unlocked for just such an occasion.
However, as I opened the back door to unlock the front door (no, I don't have automatic locks, thank-you-very-much), Carolyn took the car out of gear.
I was standing there thinking, "Huh. It feels like this car is moving. Holy crap, it IS moving."
The open back door smacked me in the gut and pushed me into the pole that holds up the awning.
I threw all my weight up against the door frame just in time for the door not to be bent backward and slowly ripped off in a tangle of metal a la Tommy Boy (but lots slower).
As I was thus indisposed, Carolyn took the opportunity to climb under, over, and around me despite my screaming at her to just get out and stay out of the car.
I tried with all my might to push the car even two feet forward so I could close the door and then run around and jump in.
The very best I could do was get a gentle rocking motion going.
So, there I was, sweating and straining just to keep the car from rolling further backward and looking around madly for anyone who could help me.
It took ten full minutes before a member of the lawn crew came driving around the corner and saw my plight.
Had he not come, I'd still be out there.
He ran over and helped me push it back as I was madly trying to explain to him what had happened.
He just stared at me and said, "Jes. Jou ok?"
Si, hombre. Gracias.
But don't worry.
I totally refrained from using the other only Spanish I remember from high school, "Donde esta la biblioteca?"