...and then I got run over

I was struggling to think of what to write today. My back is still bad and my wife has been signed off for fortnight after having her appendix out the old-fashioned way, ie, not with keyhole surgery. I’m told it’s like having a Caesarean but without the baby to care for. Needless to say, motoring matters have not been at the forefront of anyone’s mind in the Yarrow household. And then I got run over. I say ‘run over’… I got hit by a car. Only its door mirror, which was akin to me hitting my funny bone on something hard. It hurt, but I wouldn’t be requiring an ambulance. Here’s what happened: I had taken my kids to school, was walking home and about to use a zebra crossing. There was a pale green MkIII Micra a good 20 metres away – I even found a picture of one on the Nissan media website – so I assumed the driver would slow if they needed to. I wasn’t paying much attention to it, and with my back as it is, I tend to be staring at the ground quite a lot. Next thing I know it’s caught my left elbow. The driver didn’t stop, there was no acknowledgement of the incident whatsoever. I can only assume he or she simply didn’t see the 6ft 4in bloke crossing the road in front of them. Unbelievable.