The Station Wagon, Vol. 2

Our family's ugly Station Wagon had a window that rolled down on the hatch back. On afternoon when I was three years old, my mom was driving us down the road when she happened to look in the rearview mirror to see me, outside the car, hanging on. All she could see was my white hair and my little knuckles.

She slammed on the breaks.

I was three. I guess I decided to climb out the back and ride on the bumper.

It's a miracle I'm alive today.