I just realized that I never explained what the heck the title of this series of posts meant. (Check out Part 1 and Part 2 if this makes no sense to you.)
You guys are going to think we're sick.
Here's the thing -- Mr. Man is kind of a thrill-seeker. And I'm sort of an adrenaline junkie. Meaning, we do stuff like jump off the roofs of our houses, and take 150 foot free falls at carnivals, and both of our "back-up life plans" have something to do with being stunt drivers. So, while, yes, the wreck was terrifying. And yes, B-Fray did get hurt and that's awful. And yes, it was dangerous, and horrible, and we're beyond lucky to be alive. But, looking back, the actual act of flipping, of being totally off the ground and not controlled by gravity, was kind of... fun. Once I knew I was safely on the ground, and still breathing, and not harmed, and B-Fray was still conscious and okay, I could admit that it was kind of cool that we walked away from that unscathed, kind of like in an action movie.
And so, when we got home, and had a moment to breathe, and knew B-Fray was safe in his bed, Mr. Man looked at me and said, "Well, I always did want to flip a car."
So that's that story. Now if you want to see photos of the Jeep post-wreck, Mr. Man's mom had to take some for insurance and sent them to me. If you don't want to see them, I'd navigate away from the page now.