Question: What happens when you go to Wally World at 9 PM?

Answer: You hit a dumbass deer on your way home.

I'm fine. Livers is fine. But my nerves are a wee bit shot.

We were within half a mile of our house, driving the speed limit (35 mph), and I wasn't distracted by a radio, phone, or screaming baby. Out of nowhere comes a decent sized doe, and I slammed on my brakes, gritted my teeth, and hoped for the best. The thud that comes with hitting an animal of that size is enough to send one to tears. Upon impact she was knocked a good twenty feet ahead of my car and was skittering on the ground, hind legs dragging a bit. I kept waiting for her to go down, but luckily she must have come to her senses and she stood up and ran into the woods.

There was a person behind me during all of this, but he thankfully wasn't tailgating. However he was a jerk who didn't even bother to stop. It's not like he could've missed me hit the thing. As I was pulling on the side of the road my mom called. It's a good thing she waited, or I really could've been in trouble. I told her what happened and she got worried. She asked if I needed my dad to come get me, and I told her no but I wanted to see what my car looked like. I got out of the car to assess the damage and she'd left a decent dent on the right of the bumper, and there were a couple of cracks and missing pieces of plastic. It could've been a lot worse.

The car drove fine home, and everyone was safe. I think what really made me mad was that my relatively unblemished car isn't her silver perfection anymore. I don't know yet if it's worth repairing, though. We'll see what the light of morning brings.

Stupid Bambi.